


Fragmented Soul: The Furry Bits

by Bickymonster, StrawberryGirl87



Series: Fragmented Soul Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 13:06:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 84,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bickymonster/pseuds/Bickymonster, https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryGirl87/pseuds/StrawberryGirl87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of short stories which all tie in with Fragmented Soul. Scenes that would never fit into the main story but happened in that world. Snippets into the lives of and back stories of the characters as well as key events in their lives that led up to Fragmented Soul. Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Baloo Bear

**Author's Note:**

> Copyright notice - While all characters, ideas and creations from the Original Harry Potter works remain copyrighted by JKRowling, and she retains all legal rights to them; We do claim copyright on the original characters, ideas and creations within this story that are entirely our own and full permission is required if you wish to publish or use them anywhere else.
> 
> In this scene Harry is five years old. Severus is being forced to move from their home once again after Harry preforms magic in front of and on a muggle. This is a short snippet into their lives when Harry is still a young child.

August 1985

Severus paced restlessly across his potions lab, hands running through his hair in furious agitation. They had only been here for a year and a half and it looked like they would have to move yet again; this would be the second time now that they had been forced to leave the place that they were trying to call home. Harry hadn’t meant to; he had only just turned five the month before and his magic was beginning to get uncontrollable.

He had never known for a child to show such early signs of accidental magic, though he had always known that Harry was bound to be a special if not an entirely unique child. The trouble was that the Ministry of magic might possibly be able to trace such large bursts of power which meant that it wasn’t safe here anymore. He couldn’t risk staying here not with the chance that they might be found.

Severus had managed to fix the pretty, blonde, muggle girl’s eyes after Harry had somehow managed to turn them bright green to match his own. He had even managed to remove the fluffy white wings, which she had been adorned with much to the horror of her parents and then proceeded to erase all the memories that he needed to but he knew it wouldn’t be enough to allow them to stay. He would never have peace of mind if they stayed which meant they would have to go.

Removing his wand Severus began to shrink and pack everything they needed from his potions lab, almost everything else could easily be bought again but he needed his potions equipment for his business. He had hoped that they would be able to settle here more permanently however it wasn’t to be apparently. Finishing the packing fairly quickly with his wand in hand, he moved through into the sitting room next where he had left Harry in front of a DVD. His heart melted at what he saw there. Harry had fallen asleep watching his favourite film. This normally changed weekly, as with any child of that age but currently it was The Jungle Book and that seemed to unwavering, at least for the moment.

Severus had even bought him a stuffed toy Baloo bear which was half the size of Harry himself. Harry had cuddled up with it half using the toy as a pillow, his knees tucked up under his body and bum in the air, arms wrapped protectively around Baloo. The film was still playing on the television as the little boy slept through it and Severus couldn’t help but smile. His hair, as usual, was sticking up all over the place and just beneath his fringe was the hideous lightning shaped scar. His little Harry.

Every time he looked upon the little boy’s sweet, chubby cheeks and toothy grin, he knew that all the moving and the risks were worth it. His little powerful baby boy would be safe , protected and loved. Any anger or irritation at having to now find somewhere else to live faded at the soft murmurings coming from his son’s lips as he floated through his dreams.

It had taken Severus some time to adjust to fatherhood but now that he had got into the swing of being a single father as well as running his own business to support them both and not to mention teaching Harry everything he would need to know it really wasn’t so bad. Most children Harry’s age were starting primary school, at least in the muggle world. Severus however couldn’t risk it. He had known that he would always have to tutor Harry at home; he could never risk sending him to school, magical or otherwise.

Watching Harry grow up was enough to remind him every day that he couldn’t ask for a better life for either of them, despite the sacrifices that he had had to make. Even if that life meant that they were constantly on the run, it was still better than allowing Dumbledore to use the boy for whatever plan he had cooked up. It was the price they had to pay for staying safe and away from the likes of Albus Dumbledore.

Taking care not to wake him, Severus scooped up the not so small infant into his arms. Instantly the small child shifted in his sleep, snuggling himself into his father’s warm embrace, clutching desperately at his Baloo bear. Severus held him there, studying every inch of the innocent face. He had known James since he was eleven years old, he knew that Harry would be the spitting image of his father even though he was only five. It was clear even now how much he would look like James Potter but there were definite signs of Lily there too and Severus focused on them.

Strangely though seeing James in the young boy didn’t bother Severus in the slightest because every time he looked into the startling green eyes he was reminded of Lily. The woman who he still missed dearly and thought about daily, he would never forget her, it wasn’t possible to merely forget everything that they had shared. Severus would tell Harry about Lily as he grew, he would make sure that her darling Harry would know the wonderful woman that had given him life and then sacrificed her own to save it.

With a deep sigh he carried the five year old up the stairs to his bedroom. Drawing back the blankets on his bed he tucked Harry in, remembering fondly how adamant the child had been at wanting blue bedding. Leaning down he placed a kiss upon the boy’s forehead, stroking back the raven hair from his closed eyes.

“Love you, my little Harry,” Severus whispered softly as he stood up to leave, thinking that he should continue packing their things so that they could leave come dawn. However as he attempted to quietly tiptoe out of the room he heard Harry turn over in his sleep, emerald eyes blinking open.

“Daddy,” the little boy murmured sleepily, rubbing his eyes with clenched fists. “Daddy,” he repeated again a little more desperately.

“It’s okay little one,” Severus said soothingly going back to sit by the bed so that his son could see him. “Go back to sleep, Harry,” he whispered, a hand going to stroke the mass of dark hair.

“Stay,” Harry replied sleepily, his eye lids already starting to droop again as he tugged Baloo bear closer to him.

Severus smiled fondly at the small child and nodded his head, “Always,” he whispered.


	2. The Colour Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has a nightmare and Severus soothes him ... This is how Harry came to have green bedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but cute, please enjoy.

October 1986

“DADDY!” Harry screamed, “DADDY!” Instantly Severus was out of bed and running to his son’s room. The terrified scream made him think of Aurors, werewolves and of Dumbledore. Had they been found? He ran through the house to little Harry’s bedroom where he found his six year old son sobbing. He had seemingly fallen out of his bed and was curled up on the floor holding his own knees, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

It was Halloween, of course. There were no Aurors, no Dumbledore and there weren’t any werewolves, apart from Harry himself, either, not the real kind, only the pretend kind that muggles liked to dress up as. They hadn’t been found, they were still safe but it still broke his heart to see his son crying hysterically from his nightmares. 

There were nights throughout the year where Severus was woken by Harry screaming from the horrors he had seen in his sleep, but it happened, without fail, every year on the anniversary of Lily’s death, though the boy was far too young to understand the connection yet. Severus had used his skills over the mind to look into Harry’s head and discover the cause of the night terrors and he had been horrified at what he had seen. 

A locket being dropped in water; a room of broken things that seemed piled so high it was impossible that they remained standing tall; a run down house in a forest; a beautiful golden cup that Severus thought might be the Hufflepuff cup but he couldn’t be sure, in a room of glittering treasure. The items were of no concern to him however, what was more worrying was the flash of green light and the screaming woman. Harry saw Lily dying in front of his eyes and that repressed memory haunted him in his sleep on the anniversary of her death. 

There were also images of a great green snake with bright yellow eyes that Severus could not identify from any breed of serpent that he knew existed in the world today. He could see how much the images terrified his son, how Harry told him that his scar hurt him when he awoke with his own screams. There were things that he couldn’t hope to understand, and were terrifying to a six year old. He had already decided that he would teach Harry occlumency once he was a bit older, hopefully that would help.

Severus scooped up the tiny boy and carried him back through to his own bedroom, where the two of them lay down together on the double bed, the still crying six year old cuddled into his father, sobbing his little heart out. 

“I hate the colour green!” the six year old stated irrationally causing Severus to laugh a little, holding his son close. 

“Why do you hate the colour green, Harry?” Severus asked kindly as he ran his fingers through the unruly black hair atop the small boy’s head. 

“I see Mummy dying and lots and lots of green.” To hear Harry speak of how he remembered Lily die was heart wrenching. He had hoped that Harry would have no recollection of any of it, on any other day of the year he didn’t, only on this night. 

“You know there are lots of wonderful things that are green too you know, Harry,” Severus said softly to his son, trying to sooth the small boy and to calm him. 

“Like what?” Harry asked, looking up at his father with a frown as they lay facing each other on the bed. 

“Grass, leaves, they’re green but do you want to know why green is my very favourite colour?” Severus asked and Harry looked up at him through watery eyes, nodding. “Your eyes are the most beautiful shade of green I have ever seen. They are the exact same shade of green of your mother’s eyes. They made me fall in love with her you know.”

“I miss Mummy,” Harry said as he cuddled into his Dad. Severus wrapped strong arms around the infant, holding him close. 

“I miss her too,” Severus whispered softly. 

The two of them fell asleep lying together, Harry snuggled into the warmth of his Dad, accepting the comfort. Thankfully no more nightmares found him for the remainder of the night. Come morning, after the two of them had had breakfast, Severus took his son out to the shops where they picked out a simple green bedding set. 

As they were walking around the homeware store, Harry sat in the trolley, holding the packaged green duvet cover close to his chest he looked up to his Dad and said; “I think green might be my favourite colour now too.” Severus smiled tenderly at the young boy, leaning down and placing a kiss upon his scarred forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to comment and let us know what you thought.


	3. Imperial Ceylon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lukas at the age of ten and how his love of tea came about, also how he came to be on bad terms with his father.

Imperial Ceylon

May 1984

“That’s Palace Earl Grey,” she instructed, her ten year old son, who was looking up at her with apt enthusiasm. She took a sip of the tea, letting herself breath in the slightly citrusy aroma mixed with that of heady black tea. The two of them shared their curly chestnut hair and dull blue eyes but otherwise Lukas Faris was the spitting image of his father, a man who wanted very little to do with his only child. Claire had been overjoyed to share her love of tea with her little boy who seemed to relish each brew he tried.

 

Malcolm Faris had very little time for Lukas; the boy was far too intellectual and had very little in the way of brawn, how Malcolm believed a boy should be. Though that was only part of the reason; Malcolm hadn’t looked at his son the same since it had happened.

 

“I think I prefer the Imperial Ceylon,” Lukas said as he took hold of the delicate teacup with that particular brew and took a small sip. He’d already drank two cups of the stuff this morning alone. His mother had always said he was something of an old man, stuck in a young boy’s body; Lukas, of course, had taken this as quite the compliment as he prided himself on being ‘a real English gentleman’. “Oh yes, this is my favourite,” he told her.

 

Claire chuckled, she so loved her little man, despite his unfortunate disease. Malcolm been furious, had wanted to cast him aside, disown the boy, and try again for another that wouldn’t have the dreaded and feared Lycanthropy curse but Claire had point blank refused. It was the reason they had never given Lukas any siblings; Claire had feared that Lukas would become neglected and unloved if she were to give Malcolm another child, whether it was a son or a daughter.

 

Ever since he had been bitten and regrettably infected, Claire had kept Lukas hidden from the world. She had been afraid that they just wouldn’t understand. It was her choice to tutor him at home rather than to send him to a magical school that wouldn’t have known how to cope with his disease. It worked well for them now that Malcolm spent more time at work than he did at home.

 

Lukas poured himself another cup of Imperial Ceylon with a smile on his young face. He relished this time with his mother. His father was not a man whom he could get along with. Not that Malcolm ever spent time with him anymore, not since he had been bitten when he was just five years old, but Lukas didn’t mind this so much; he much preferred the company of his mother, who had given him her love of tea. It was something special that just the two of them shared and that is why Lukas treasured it so much.

 

“How about you try this one, Lukas,” she suggested fondly, pouring the hot water through the strainer holding a blend of chai tea that was her own personal favourite. Lukas, obliging his mother, took the tea cup and took a delicate sip of the hot heavily spiced liquid.

 

“It’s lovely, but I still prefer the Ceylon,” Lukas told her with a smile and Claire nodded her approval. This was their ritual, every morning after Malcolm had left for work and before they began his lessons; they would sit together and decide upon which tea to drink while they studied together. The light burning in the ten year olds eyes as they discussed the various blends warmed her heart.

 

“I thought we could start by having a look at that new Arithmancy book you got yesterday,” Claire suggested, delighted by the expression of delight that Lukas was wearing when he looked up from his tea. Lukas’ love of Arithmancy and numbers was one thing he had gotten from his father. The young boy was certainly something to admire, Claire had never known a child quite like him.

 

He put his teacup carefully down on the table, hardly able to withhold his excitement. “I’ll go get it,” he told her eagerly, rushing off up the stairs.

 

Claire was carefully topping up Lukas’ Ceylon tea in his favourite teacup, when the front door was opened rather forcefully, slamming against the wall and making her jump in surprise and alarm.

 

By the time she had placed the delicate china tea pot upon the table her husband was stood in the doorway to their kitchen, looking furious; he had only been gone half an hour at most and she should couldn’t begin to imagine what had her husband so riled up.

 

“Malcolm? Whatever is the matter, my love?” she asked kindly, getting up and stepping around the table towards him.

 

He sneered at her in absolute disgust, “I want a divorce,” he said and then with mocking he added, “my love.” Claire’s breath caught in her throat as the words were spoken, her heart clenching as the word divorce was spat at her so hatefully.

 

Lukas stalled at the top of the stairs, his father was home. He had the Arithmancy book clutched desperately tightly to his chest. He could hear every word that his parents said and when his dad uttered the word divorce he almost dropped his book. He had never so much as miss-used a book in his life.

 

His attention was intently on the conversation that was going on downstairs, trying to figure out why his father would have come home early and why he would be asking his Mum for a divorce. He crept down a couple of steps and tried to curl himself up small, listening with great care, not wanting to miss a word, but also definitely not wanting to go downstairs or be anywhere his father.

 

He kept the book tucked up with him, between his chest and knees, resting his chin upon the hard cover as he heard his mother ask, “A divorce, where has this come from?” She genuinely sounded surprised as if this had come from nowhere. Lukas could never recall his parents ever exchanging cross words before now, it didn’t make any sense.

 

“I want to marry someone else, someone who has my child, a child that isn’t a monster!” As the words left Malcolm’s lips, Lukas realised that it was his fault, his father was leaving because of him. His mother was losing her husband because he was a werewolf.

 

“You… you cheated on me…” Lukas heard his mother say, sounding heartbroken, and he felt the guilt burn inside him. He wanted to run away, hide, pretend this wasn’t happening. Maybe if he went away his father would stay and then his Mum could still be happy.

 

Lukas put the book aside, took a deep breath before charging down the stairs and into the kitchen where his father was squaring up to his mother. “I’ll leave” he declared, “I’ll go away, just don’t leave mum.”

 

“Stay out of this!” Malcolm snarled, not even turning to look at his ten year old son. “I will have the papers with you by the end of the week, you will sign them,” he told Claire. “Obviously you can keep… him,” Malcolm sneered, with a half glance at Lukas who was standing looking between his parents worriedly.

 

“I’ll leave, I swear, I’ll leave right now,” Lukas promised, pulling on his father’s sleeve.

 

“Go upstairs, Lukas,” Claire told him

 

“No mum, I want you to be happy,” Lukas said sadly, he didn’t want to go away, he didn’t want to leave his Mum, but for her sake he would do it.

 

Claire turned away from Malcolm, kneeling down in front of her son with a smile on her lips and tears in her dull blue eyes. “I’m happy with you, dear one,”

 

“You don’t mean that mum, I’m a monster,” Lukas told her, his gaze falling to the floor, where he could see his tears landing near his feet.

 

“No, Lukas,” Claire insisted gently, tipping his chin up to meet his tearful eyes, and drying them with a thumb, “your father is the monster.”

 

That was enough for Malcolm who suddenly felt that he had to show them just how much of a monster he was. With the swipe of one large, brutish arm, he had brushed the pot, cups and saucers, so precisely laid out by mother and son, on to the floor. The delicate china tea set smashing to the tiled ground with a tremendous crash, the remainder of the tea splashing onto every nearby surface.

 

Claire and Lukas froze in horror. They had picked out the beautiful tea set together a month previously for her birthday. The shards of it now covering the floor irreparable even with magic. “Lukas, dear one, please go upstairs,” she pleaded with her son. Malcolm had never been a calm or composed man and she didn’t want her little boy to be caught in the crossfire.

 

“No, Mum, I won’t let him hurt you,” Lukas told her, wrapping his arms around her tightly and protectively.

 

“Finally growing some balls!” Malcolm snapped, looking at his son for the first time. “Too little, too late, I’ve replaced you boy. If you could only have managed it before you let that monster bite you,” he said with disgust.

 

“He was FIVE!” Claire yelled in anger, there was nothing that Lukas could have done, there was nothing any of them could have done that fateful night. And Malcolm knew that. If he was going to be gone from their lives then she sure wasn’t going to let him leave behind such ideas in Lukas’ head.

 

In a moment of fury, Lukas let go of his mother and ran forward teeth bared, wanting to bite his father; to make him see how well he was able to defend himself against such an attack, even as a child; wanting to punish him for being so mean. However Malcolm saw this attack coming and was able to push away the boy who had always been small for his age. Not even becoming a werewolf could alter that fact.

 

“Don’t you touch him!” Claire raged, grabbing Lukas and holding him close. “You’ll have your divorce,” she said, her voice holding firm.

 

“Finally learned to do what you are told,” he said smugly, “seems you and your boy have that in common. Learning what I tried to teach you, just too little, too late.” Malcolm let out a laugh and pushed Lukas’ teacup off the side of the table, just to watch his son’s reaction. They would understand who was in control of the situation.

 

Lukas watched, as almost in slow motion, his favourite teacup fell to the ground. The Imperial Ceylon brew that it had contained practically exploding across the tiled kitchen floor, the china shattering and scattering. A single tear escaped from the corner of his eye but he stood firm, his mother’s comforting arms around him. He had to be strong for his mother now, he had to make her proud.

 

“OUT!” Claire shouted, “Get out,” she said more quietly, blinking her own tears from her eyes as she looked at the sad expression on Lukas’ face.

 

“Gladly,” Malcolm snarled, “I’ll be back for my stuff, it better be packed by tomorrow.”

 

“You want it packed you’ll do it yourself or get your whore to do it,” Claire told him with barely contained fury, “if it’s still here tomorrow night I’ll burn it.”

 

“And I’ll help,” Lukas piped up, puffing out his chest in proud determination.

 

Without another word Malcolm turned and left, slamming the front door to signal that he was gone. Instantly Claire was on her knees in tears, sobbing, grieving for her broken marriage. Lukas collapsed down next to her, the spilt tea soaking up into his jeans.

 

“I’m sorry, Mummy,” he said softly, using an endearment he hadn’t said in years. “How about I make more tea for us?” he asked sweetly and Claire smiled at him, his question chasing away her sorrow.

 

She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly and giving thanks for her wonderful little boy, speaking softly close to his ear, “Yes, dear one, let us have some tea.”


	4. Snatched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night Romy was taken from her parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just because you have to wait an extra week for more updates here is another short story, this time about Romy before she came to be with the pack. Hope you enjoy and don't forget to leave a comment. ~StrawberryGirl87

February 1993

“Romy, darling,” her mother called; the eleven year old girl sighed in annoyance. Lying on her bed on her stomach, kicking her legs up in the air, she had been writing in her diary quite happily until her mother had shouted her.

“Yes, Mum,” she called back, not wanting to go downstairs. Her father was working late this evening and she could smell dinner wafting all over the house. Her big brother, Jake, had friends over and they were always mean to her. Romy could hear them on their playstation in the living room, shouting abuse at the television.

“Could you come here please.” Romy huffed in annoyance, closing her diary and sliding it subtly underneath her mattress where she always hid it so that her nosy big brother, who did so like to tease her, wouldn’t find it.

Stomping from her bedroom and down the stairs to see what her mother wanted, she let her mind drift a little, thinking about how she couldn’t wait to go off to Hogwarts. Then she wouldn’t have to deal with her averagely normal, and overly boring, family anymore. She had laughed so hard at Jake when she had received her Hogwarts letter on her eleventh birthday two months previously. All her family were muggles, none of them had an ounce of magic in them and yet she was a witch.

She couldn’t go until September but she knew that it would be wonderful. Romy didn’t care that her father hadn’t spoken a word to any of them since the letter from Hogwarts had arrived. Her mother didn’t really want to talk about it either but had at least given her daughter the choice about whether or not she wanted to go. Romy had eagerly said that she did. In the two months that she had known about what she was, the young girl had read everything and anything she could get her hands on about the school and what she would learn.

“What is it, Mum?” Romy asked as she came into the kitchen where her mum was putting the vegetables on to boil.

“Could you be a dear and go to the shop for me, I can’t leave the dinner,” she said, looking at her youngest child pleadingly.

“Can’t Jake go?” Romy said with annoyance; the last thing she wanted to do was traipse to the corner shop in the middle of February, through the slush, that had once been snow, and the freezing wind.

“Your brother has his friends round, please Romy, just do this for me, please,” her mother pleaded.

“Fine, what do you need?” Romy asked, crossing her arms over her chest with irritation.

“Milk and bread please sweetheart, grab some money from my purse and get some sweets for yourself while you’re there but save them until after your dinner okay.”

“Yes, Mum,” Romy droned as she sulked off to find her welly boots.

She found everything she needed, including her mums handbag in the entrance hall to their modest family home, pulling on her black Blink 182 hoodie for warmth and tugging the hood up over her head, her pig tails only just long enough to poke out. Shoving her feet into her boots she grabbed some money and left without saying goodbye, still unhappy at being asked to go at all.

The wind was bitter and she had to keep her head bowed low as she walked, the light rain only adding to the slush and ice on the floor. She kept her hands in her pockets and her eyes on the floor, watching for icy patches so that she wouldn’t fall. It was unusually quiet, very few people being stupid enough to brave the weather, even the roads were lacking in traffic.

Despite her effort and caution to avoid them, Romy hit an icy patch and found her footing lost as she tumbled to the ground, landing with a graceless thud on her behind. Her hands leaving her pockets just in time to break her fall. With a muttered profanity at having wet jeans and a sore bum she started to heave herself up.

“Here, let me help you,” a voice said from across the street. Her hood had fallen when she had fell and the rain was getting in her hair and making it frizz but Romy had never been one to care about things like that, she only cared that it made her feel colder. She looked up to see a young man rush over, he couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen, he had auburn hair and as he got closer she noted his bright, beautiful eyes.

“Umm … thanks,” she said, accepting his helping hand when it was offered. “This weather never really helps the uncoordinated.” She could feel the blush rising in her cheeks when he didn’t remove his hand from hers.

He chuckled as he brought her to her feet, “You alright, you didn’t hurt yourself did you?” he asked and Romy was surprised that he genuinely sounded concerned.

“Only my pride,” Romy returned with a shy smile.

“I’m Jack,” the stranger said unexpectedly.

“Romy,” she told him, all in a flutter. Guys never noticed her, ever. Especially not older, handsome guys. She was too tom-boyish, too plain, too clumsy and had always chosen books over make-up and clothes.

“Where you heading? Maybe I could walk you there so we can avoid any more accidents,” Jack asked.

“Just to the shop, my mum wanted me to grab some stuff for her,” Romy said, biting her lip nervously.

“Just my luck, I was looking for a shop; my family are new to the area and I’m a bit lost,” Jack confided in her, his voice a whisper as if it were a secret.

Romy gave a small, nervous laugh, “It’s not far from here,” she told him, “I’ll show you the way.”

“And in return, I’ll make sure you don’t fall,” he bargained and she nodded her agreement.

“Sounds like a plan,” She said, her cheeks burning red and her heart beating unbelievably fast. Jack hadn’t let go of her hand since helping her up.

Romy Chester never made it home that night. Her mother waited two hours before calling the police. When her father returned home from work he went out looking for his youngest child. He walked the path that she would have taken to the local shop and asked the woman behind the counter if she had seen her, however she told him she hadn’t been in that evening. He drove around endlessly looking for any trace of his eleven year old daughter.

Her mother held her son close to her, tears streaming down her cheeks as she called every friend she knew Romy to have but none of them had seen her. The entire town was soon out searching for her but to no avail. By the time it came to light, thanks to a nosy old lady, obsessed with spying on the neighbourhood through her net curtains, that Romy had been seen talking to a young man, it was too late to do much with the information.

For months the police scouted the area and made a fuss but no trace of her was ever found, it was like she disappeared off the face of the earth. The Chester family held out hope that she was still alive, as a body was never recovered, but they were devastated by the loss of Romy, blaming themselves and always wondering what if.


	5. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bite that started it all ... how Fenrir Greyback became a werewolf.

The Beginning

April 1964

Those stupid muggles didn’t understand. He could hear them talking about how much of a problem child he was. Abandoned by his father, who didn’t even know that he existed, his mother now dead and cold in the ground. Five year old Fenrir Greyback had nothing and no one.

The other children looked down on him, used him as a punching bag. He should have just used the pine wand his mother had bought for him before she had died, he was so proud of it, thirteen inches with a dragon heartstring core. He would have loved to use against the bullies he was forced to share a bedroom with but he couldn't. He didn’t even know any spells; his mother had not taught him any. 

They had been beyond poor, to the point that the wand was the only thing of value she had ever been able to afford to buy him. Knowing that death was coming to her she had used up every penny she had just to buy it for him; she hoped it might help keep him safe when her precious boy was left all alone in the world. Fenrir now kept it well hidden, away from where the other children might find it, jealously defending his one possession. 

She had only been dead a month, buried for less than that and already he wanted to see her again, he wanted to say goodbye. He resented that he hadn’t been allowed to go to the funeral; they had said he was just too young and wouldn't have understood anyway. In truth he understood all too well, though he wasn’t even sure where she was buried. He knew that there was a cemetery not far from the orphanage and he thought that he might try there. He had to start somewhere.

Taking his wand, though it would be very little use to him, Fenrir crept quietly down the stairs. Night had truly set in and there was no one else in the house awake. He had watched the comings and goings for the month that he had been there; from his watching, and observing, he knew exactly what to do. It was so easy to unlock the door and let himself out. Stupid muggles.

It was cold outside and Fenrir hadn’t thought to bring a jacket with him. Wrapping his arms around himself for warmth he kept his head down and moved quickly and silently through the streets. He had always been slightly on the large side for his age but he was still only five years old and no five year old should have been wandering around the streets unaccompanied in the early hours of the morning. 

He was fortunate in the fact that he encountered no one, no drunks or homeless people, the streets he walked were empty and silent. He knew the direction, he’d made sure to pay attention every time they’d left the orphanage. He wasn’t stupid, he remembered because he remained quiet and he watched and he listened, he saw everything, heard everything.

Glancing up at the sky he saw that the moon was almost full, tomorrow it would be. He’d always been fascinated by the night time sky, his mother and he had loved looking up at the sky, naming the stars and constellations anything that they could think of because they didn’t know their true names. He had always thought the moon to be beautiful and his mother’s name had meant moon, so he always thought of her every time he looked at the bright, shinning orb. 

He was determined to find her grave tonight. He wanted to look up at the stars with her one final time. He wanted to make up silly names for all the constellations with her and even though he knew that it wouldn’t be the same, that she wouldn’t really be there it was something that he had to do; it would be their own private goodbye.

He reached the wrought iron gates of the graveyard within an hour of leaving the orphanage and without anyone challenging him as to why he was wandering around on his own so late at night. Despite never having been there before he had still managed it without getting lost and he was feeling more than a little proud of himself. The gates creaked loudly as he opened them a little to squeeze inside. Without any streetlights the only lighting Fenrir had was the moon. 

Cold wind blew around him making the young boy shiver. He had no clue if the cemetery had any order to it, so he just started scouring headstones looking for the name of his mother. Selene Greyback. There was probably over two hundred people buried here but Fenrir was determined and he would search as long as it took; he just hoped he found her sooner rather than later so he could spend the rest of the night with her. 

The hairs on the back of his neck began to prickle, as if he was being watched, but he quickly shook off the feeling and concentrated on the job he came here to do. Fenrir didn’t want to think that anyone was following him or watching him and he couldn't imagine why there would be someone else out there at that time. He slowly continued his way through the graveyard, peering at the headstones searching for the familiar name. 

“What are you doing here, boy?” a gruff voice said behind him suddenly and without warning, causing Fenrir to let out a little shriek of fear that made the owner of the voice laugh. 

Turning to face the man, the five year old was shocked to see that the man who had spoken had a child with him, a boy that looked roughly around his age if not a little older. They were scruffily dressed and grubby; any fully grown adults seems big to a five year old, but Fenrir did think this man looked larger than most.

“Visiting my mother,” Fenrir said keeping his small voice as unwavering as possible. He didn’t want to show any of the fear he was feeling. 

“She’s buried here?” The older man asked. 

Fenrir nodded, surveying him carefully, terror pumping through him with every beat of his heart. He had dark brown hair and eyes, the child looked remarkably similar to him and Fenrir realised that he was probably looking at father and son. 

“Yes,” he replied making to take a step back from the two of them, a little frightened as to why they were here, why they had interrupted him in his search for his mother. He had no idea what they would want or why they would speak to him, but he just wanted to be left alone to find her.

“What of your father?” the strange man asked. 

“Dead,” Fenrir said, he knew this to be a lie but the truth was much more complicated and it wasn’t something that he would often discuss with anyone, not even his mother. He wasn’t about to go into it with a complete stranger. 

“Hmmm,” the man hummed with interest before turning to his son. “I brought you out to teach you to hunt and look what we have found Gideon, a play mate for you.” 

“Do you mean it Dad?” the young boy asked eagerly, looking up at his father with bright, hopeful eyes. 

Fenrir looked between the two of them in confusion, a wave of dread washing over him. He took a hesitant step backwards, his little heart racing. Finding his mother's grave sudden seemed a lot less important than getting away from these two strangers; he still had no idea what they wanted but he was certain it was nothing good.

“I think he will make an excellent addition to the pack,” the older man mused thoughtfully and before Fenrir could register what was going on, or turn tail and run, he had been grabbed around the waist and hoisted none to gently off his feet. 

Fenrir screamed in panic, screams that reached a whole new level of intensity as sharp teeth sank into his shoulder. He could focus just enough to see the other young boy looking on with malicious glee. Not one to give up easily, Fenrir had started to kick and thrash. He got in a few well aimed blows to the groin and the man loosened his grip enough that Fenrir was able to wriggle free and start to run. 

His shoulder ached horribly and he had tears streaming down his cheeks, even his waist felt bruised from the man's tight grip. However, despite being a little shaky, his legs were working fine and he just started to run. He headed, as fast as his little legs could carry him, towards the wrought iron gates, frantically trying to get away from the weird father and son duo that had attacked him.

Fenrir Greyback didn’t know it then but that was the defining moment of his life. It was that night that shaped the rest of his life and changed the course of many others too because when the next full moon rose, the night after he was bitten, the five year old boy transformed into his wolf. He had had no clue what was happening to him or why but he survived it against all odds. 

He had killed several of his fellow orphans and, in his guilt and panic, ran away the next morning. From then on he learned to trust his instincts, found a new orphanage to house him and ran wild on the full moons. Since that night, Fenrir Greyback had been a werewolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave a comment and let us know what you think! :-D


	6. The First Snitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's seventh birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really hope you enjoy this short scene.
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment for us! :-D

The first Snitch

 

July 31st 1987

 

Severus Prince had been awake since dawn had broken. He was teeming with anxious excitement, awaiting for his son to wake up and come bounding down the stairs. Today was his seventh birthday.

 

Harry had been pleading for months about getting his very own broom and had been utterly heartbroken when Severus had explained that it was just too risky with them living in a neighbourhood of muggles. Even though he had said this, he had secretly been plotting and managed to keep everything concealed from his young son.

 

If Severus had had any talent in the kitchen then he would have made pancakes for their breakfast, Harry’s favourite. He might even have braved an attempt at baking a cake for him too, however cooking had never been his forte and they would have to settle with store bought.

 

To make up for this, however, Severus had ensured that the whole day was work free just so that he could spend it with Harry. The presents, that he had bought for the young boy, were placed in pride of place on the kitchen table. They would be the first thing that Harry would see when he came downstairs.

 

Severus was nursing his third cup of coffee for the morning when he heard heavy, rushed footfalls coming down the stairs. The kitchen door burst open, admitting a blur of blue pyjamas and messy black hair into the kitchen.

 

“Happy Birthday, Harry!” Severus said with a smile on his face as he found the birthday boy in his arms hugging him tightly.

 

“Can we have pancakes, Dad, can we, can we?” Harry pleaded, practically jumping up and down in his excitement.

 

Severus grinned happily at his now seven year old son, “Why don’t you open your presents,” Severus suggested, “I’ll see what I can do about pancakes.”

 

Harry’s eyes lit up at the mention of presents, switching his gaze to the kitchen table where he saw several beautifully wrapped gifts waiting for him. “Wow,” he said in utter amazement. “Thanks, Dad!”

 

It was the happiness on his son’s face that he had been waiting for, it was the reason that he had been up since before the sun had risen. Making Harry happy made him happy. It took the seven year old just five minutes to find the present that Severus was the most excited to give.

 

“Dad…” Harry said in awe as he handled the clean sweep training broom, surveying it in utter wonder. “I thought you said…”

 

“You have to be careful but i think you’re old enough now, and responsible enough, to learn how to fly,” Severus said as he warmed the store bought pancakes with his wand. “You’ve earnt it, Harry, I’m very proud of you,” Severus finished with a smile as he placed the stack of pancakes on the table, putting a squeezy tube of syrup next to them. He would never understand his son’s obsession with sugar or his tolerance to it.

 

“Thank you so much!” Harry said bounding up to his Dad and hugging him again, still holding on to his broom. Among the other gifts had been a fair few books, something Harry had a great love of. However the one present that excited the young boy just as much as his new training broom had been the smallest gift.

 

Within the small box, wrapped in green paper with a silver bow had been a little golden ball. Harry had instantly been mesmerized by it, taking it in his hand and watching as it’s silvery wings opened and began fluttering against his hold on it.

 

“You bought me a snitch…” Harry said in utter astonishment.

 

“It’s a training snitch, for budding seekers such as yourself,” Severus said fondly as he encouraged his son to take a seat at the table and actually eat his breakfast.

 

“Wow,” Harry said as he put the little ball back in it’s box with some difficulty. “Can we go out and try them out dad? Please, please, please, you don’t have to work do you?”

 

Severus smiled, “No, I don’t have to work, we have the whole day, just the two of us. We can go out and try them out as soon as you’ve eaten and got dressed,” he said with a fond smile.

 

Harry nodded eagerly, grabbing the tube of syrup and squirting almost the entire contents of it all over his pancakes. “Harry, you need to have pancakes, as well as syrup, for breakfast, you know,” Severus reminded him with a pointed stare. Harry only giggled in response as he took a bite, enjoying the sugar hit it gave him.

 

Severus was rather glad that he had picked the triple chocolate cake from the supermarket yesterday, he was sure that his son would appreciate it even if he didn’t see the appeal of it himself. His son would eat nothing but sugar if it was up to him. Severus, of course, did not approve.  

 

It barely took five minutes for Harry to more or less inhale his rather sugary breakfast, and then Severus had to be pretty insistent that he get dressed before Harry would be allowed to go flying. Even then it still took some persuading to get him to don his shoes before running outside.

 

“Can we go, Dad? Can I go flying now?” Harry asked eagerly, hopping from foot to foot with his snitch in one hand and the broom in the other, his green eyes wide with anticipation and excitement.

 

“Yes, Harry, now we can go,” Severus agreed, chuckling with amusement, “But let’s just try the broom,” he called after Harry who had already disappeared out the back door, “... before you release the snitch,” he finished saying to the now empty room.

  
Not really surprised by his son’s enthusiasm, Severus followed after him out into the back garden. A smile forming on his lips as he smiled at Harry flying as though he had been doing it for years; his boy was a natural on a broom. He shook his head in disbelief as he saw the seven year old catch the snitch. He had been out there no more than a few minutes; maybe a natural was an understatement. Giving Harry a broom was so going to come back to bite him later, he was sure, but the look of glee on his face was worth it.


	7. Proud but Prejudiced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Lukas came to not be speaking to his mother.

Spring 1993

Lukas was sat in his preferred comfy chair, the living room window had been thrown open to let in the first breathes of warm spring air inside of the house, the indulgent scents of nature came to great him as he mulled over the letter he had received a few hours previously. The life changing parchment clasped in one hand, the other holding a tea-cup with his favourite Imperial Ceylon brew. 

Sipping at it occasionally he read the letter for what felt like the hundredth time. Ceylon really was his favourite blend with its full aromatic taste with nothing, not even milk added to spoil the delicate flavour. He always wanted to remember this moment because it was the moment that he made it in his chosen career. Drinking this specific blend always made him think of his mother. They were fond, happy memories however and the hot, calming liquid with all its variations in flavour and smell always made him smile. To drink it now, while reading this seemed to be the perfect fit. 

The letter that he held in his hand was certainly full of prospect and interest. Lukas was still struggling to come to terms that he had finally been recognized. At eighteen he was probably the youngest wizard to have one of his papers published in the Wizarding Arithmancy journal, that alone was an achievement to be proud of. However it seemed that someone important had liked what they had seen because now the highest of honours was being bestowed upon him. They were inviting him to come to London. 

Once a year there was a seminar of sorts where Arithmancer’s would gather, a select few would be asked to speak to the group that gathered. It was strictly invitation only and before this year Lukas had never been asked to go. Now, not only was he being asked but he was asking to be one of the guest speakers. A thrill of excitement raced through him at the prospect. He was going to be paid to express his views and present his paper to a group of people that he both admired and respected. Truly a dream come true. 

However the thought of going intrigued and terrified him. He would of course love to be in attendance, he was practically giddy at the prospect of being recognized for all his hard work in the field of numerical magic. His hesitation in regards to whether or not he was going to accept the invitation was all to do with his father. 

Malcolm Faris went every year without fail. Arithmancy was perhaps the only thing that father and son had in common, apart from the same shaped nose perhaps. Lukas had neither seen nor spoken to the man since he’s walked out on him and his mother when Lukas had been only ten years old. He knew nothing of the life his father now lived nor the children he had borne since then. Lukas was aware that somewhere out in the world he had at least one half-brother but it had now been eight years and he could have had a number of other siblings by this point and he wouldn’t have known. 

Lukas wasn’t exactly convinced that he would be able to face his father, not after such a long period of time. They hadn’t shared a single word, written or spoken, in the eight years since Malcolm had demanded the divorce and Claire had given it to him. However, Lukas knew that he would never be able to forgive himself for passing up such an opportunity. He wouldn’t allow himself to be too scared to follow his dreams and achieve something that he had always hoped to achieve. He refused to allow one man to dictate his life and his career in such a way. 

Taking another sip of his tea, he had made up his mind. It hadn’t really been a difficult decision to make but he would be going, his father be damned. There was however a small nagging voice in the back of his mind belonging, no doubt, to his inner child that kept telling him that maybe, just maybe, Malcolm would see him stood before a large group of their peers being acknowledged for his work and be proud of his eldest son. 

Lukas knew that this was a childish and even a foolish hope but he couldn’t help the spark that it ignited in him. He had a deep yearning to prove to his father that despite his curse he was a good man, a good wizard and something to be proud of because despite his mother’s love he just wanted his father to be proud of him rather than ashamed. 

He finished his tea, relishing in the distinct flavours, taking the time to savour each one upon his tongue. He would need to tell his mum that he was planning on going to London. It was bound to be a difficult conversation between them. They had remained together since Malcolm had walked out, they loved each other as mother and son, sharing a deep bond, hell, they were all each other had. However aside from their love of tea and books they had very little in common.

The older Lukas became the more terrified of her own son Claire had become, or rather of the wolf that was inside of him. Any temper tantrums or bursts of anger from him had always been blamed on the wolf part of him in her eyes, it was something that Lukas had never agreed with. It had become so bad that he had purchased and installed a rather large and sturdy cage in their garden shed, putting up wards and enchantments to give her more peace of mind but nothing seemed to work. He thought that perhaps by moving out they could maybe salvage their relationship before it got to the point where they couldn’t spend time together anymore. 

“Mum,” Lukas called out, trying to determine where she was. 

“In the kitchen,” Came the soft response making Lukas smile, he should have known that that was where she would be. She sounded preoccupied which meant that she was probably baking, something that Lukas loved to watch her do but had no talent for himself. 

Moving through their small house and into the kitchen where he found Claire rolling out pastry with the large rolling pin, he settled himself at the kitchen table to watch. “Would you like some tea dear one?” She asked without taking her eyes off her masterpiece. 

“I would love some,” Lukas replied with a small smile and watched as with a wave of her wand she put the kettle on to boil. “What are you making?” Lukas asked curiously, eyeing the round cookie cutters on the counter beside her. 

“Jam tarts,” She replied, “They’re always so popular at our book club. I do wish you’d come with me one night Lukas, it’s not all old witches you know.” 

“I know mum,” Lukas said with a chuckle, this was a conversation that they had had before. Book clubs however were not his thing, he was far too opinionated for them as he became rather impassioned when it came to his literature. “I might not be around to go to them mum,” he began nervously, “I’ve been invited to London to speak at that Arithmancy seminar.” 

Claire froze at the mention of the seminar, she knew it well Ceasing in rolling out the pastry and turning to face her son, rolling pin in hand and looking rather menacing with it. “London?” she queried just to be sure, “Isn’t that the same seminar that…” 

“Yes mum, it is, but…” 

“No,” Claire said at once with finality. “You’re asking for trouble by going there, no.” 

“The organisers asked me to go mum, they specifically invited me after reading my paper that was published last month. It’s a great honour!” Lukas tried to argue but his mother was a strong willed woman. 

“You never should have sent your paper off to that publication,” Claire scolded, “I knew something like this would happen. How many times have I told you? Keep your head down and don’t get noticed. Not in your … the way you are.” 

Lukas at his mother with confusion and hurt at her words, “Mum… are you ashamed of me?” 

“No dear one, not of you or the handsome young man you’ve grown into. It’s the wolf that you turn into once a month that I am ashamed of.” 

Lukas was horrified, it had been thirteen years since he had been bitten, he had adjusted to it. He had only been five, he couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been a werewolf. It was simply part of who he was and he had thought that his mother would have accepted and understood that. Even though they had never discussed it that was the assumption he had always had because she had chosen him over his father. 

“How can you think like that? The wolf is just as much a part of me now as my love of tea.” 

Claire looked at her son with something akin to disappointment in her eyes, “It isn’t natural Lukas, what you go through each month, becoming that monster… it’s not right.” 

“It’s natural to me mum,” Lukas said, trying to explain it to her. However he knew that it would be near enough impossible to make her understand how he felt on the matter. 

“Don’t be so silly Lukas,” she said dismissively, turning back to her pastry and rolling it out a little more vigorously than before. 

“I’m not being silly mum,” Lukas said firmly with determination, “I will be going to the seminar! It’s an honour to be invited to go, let alone to speak there. I can’t turn them down, I won’t,” he insisted. 

“I’m not arguing with you about this Lukas, you won’t be going and that is my final word on that matter,” she said, refusing to turn to look at her son. 

“You seem to be under the impression that you can stop me,” Lukas said, taking a firm stand. “I’m not a dangerous beast and I don’t run wild during my transformations. I have never bitten or killed anyone!” 

“You think that that will matter? You’re a werewolf and that is all that they’ll care about,” Claire said pointedly, turning back to glare at her son now. She only wanted to protect him from the world. 

“I can’t hide away from the world indefinitely mum, I need to live my life.” Lukas pleaded with her but he could see that he was fighting a losing battle as she shook her head. 

“I’m sorry Lukas but if you go to London then I don’t want you back in this house again.” 

Lukas looked to his mother in shock, not realising that she felt so passionate about the matter to give him an ultimatum. “Fine,” he said, turning on his heel and leaving the room as the kettle began to whistle, signalling that it had boiled. 

When Lukas Faris left for London to achieve his dreams he left his house key on the hallway table. He left a note with a single word scribbled on it for her to find when she woke up. He had simply told her goodbye. True to his word he never attempted to go back to his childhood home and they shared no further correspondence.


	8. The Big Bang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Clay's antics.

The Big Bang

June 1992

 

Damon had been summoned to see Fenrir who was demanding updates on the boy he had sent Damon and Clayton to watch over more frequently of late. It was an unavoidable trip and he didn’t really want to take Clayton with him for this rather impromptu meeting. The poor boy was terrified of the Alpha wolf and was always a distraction when they were trying to talk. He was just a little bit too young to understand the details and they couldn’t risk him telling Harry anything.

 

He felt so guilty asking Severus to look after Clayton though but he really had no other choice. It wasn’t just Clay’s fear of the Alpha that meant he couldn’t go, both Damon and Fenrir had agreed early on that he wouldn’t see the territory until Harry did when they turned sixteen and were brought into the pack. The Alpha couldn’t leave the territory currently and had asked for Damon to meet him there.

 

“You know I wouldn’t ask if I had any other choice,” Damon said, having just informed the other man that he needed to work. It was only a half-truth he supposed. He already kept so many secrets from the potions master.

 

Severus sighed, “I have to work too Damon, if the boys are here they won’t be supervised.” He warned, they both knew what this could mean and Damon winced.

 

“It would only be for about three hours, four at most,” Damon said, pleading desperately, he couldn’t let his Alpha down.

 

“I’m not so sure about this,” Severus said with reluctance. “Those two are…”

 

“I know and I wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate.”

 

“Please Dad!” Harry said, suddenly rushing into the room, his eyes wide and pleading. Severus couldn’t help but roll his eyes in exasperation, he should have known that the moment Damon set foot in the house Harry would have been eavesdropping.

 

“Harry…” Severus began tirelessly as his son looked up at him with those beautiful green eyes that he could never resist. “I have to work,” he tried to explain. It wasn’t that he didn’t love Clay because he did, in a way. The boy was his son’s best friend after all, however the two of them only seemed to cause havoc when together. Individually the boys were no problem and could easily occupy themselves without worry, however when combined together the results were often rather explosive and had frequently required memories to be modified.

 

“Please dad, please, we’ll be on our best behaviour!” Harry begged and Severus gave out a final sigh, looking to Damon would couldn’t help but be a little amused.

 

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” the potions master said sternly, giving his young son a reproachful look, “oh alright, he can stay with us, but I expect the two of you to behave.” He warned. Harry literally jumped for joy, hugging his Dad.

 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said before charging off to his room.

 

“I’ll go and fetch him,” Damon said, unable to hold back his smile, “Thank you for this Severus, it means a lot that you’d do this.”

 

“Yes well, if they cause any trouble I expect you to be the one to modify the memories this time,” Severus said, wondering what he had let himself in for this afternoon.

 

This was how the two twelve year olds had come to be in Harry’s room, unsupervised, playing with the muggle chemistry set Severus had found and brought home to entertain his son while he had to work without interruption, of course the two boys weren’t exactly following the instructions that had been provided and they were adding a few sparks of magic from their wands too. Whose idea it had been to include magic, neither was entirely sure but they were having a lot of fun in their quest to make some rather potent stink bombs.

 

Severus had taken up residence in the basement of their home where he had his potions room, it allowed him the silence and space to brew anything that was required of him for his job. It also kept Harry away from the more volatile and dangerous ingredients that he had to keep on hand. There were also ingredients down here that were highly poisonous to werewolves, so he had to be extra careful whenever Harry came down to use his cage on the full moons. He would never knowingly put his son in danger.

 

He was just about to add the Billywig sting to the awakening potion he was working on for one of his more lucrative business associated when the very foundations of the house began to shake rather violently. This was quickly followed by the loudest explosion that Severus could ever have imagined hearing. He instantly dropped everything that he was doing, calling out hysterically for his son, fear and adrenaline spreading through his body as he charged up the stairs and through the house to where Harry and Clayton were supposed to have been entertaining themselves.

 

The sound of giggling didn’t do anything to relieve his worry as he approached Harry’s bedroom. A foul odour assaulting his nostrils the closer he got to the giggling twelve year olds. He burst into his son’s bedroom and found the two young teens rolling around on the floor in the midst of uncontrollable laughter. One wall of the room had completely gone.

 

“What is going on in here, what have you done?” Severus yelled making the two boys cease their manic laughter, startled at the sudden appearance of the older man. The potions master looked at the two young boys, their faces had been discoloured to black from what Severus could only assume was soot and dust from whatever it was that they’d been playing with to cause the explosion. Their clothes were torn and dirtied too, beyond salvageable.

 

The teenagers scrambled to their feet attempting to look at least a little bit ashamed, however when they risked a subtle glance at one another, catching each other’s eyes they couldn’t hold it back and resumed their giggling. Severus sighed in annoyance and exasperation, thankful that at least neither of them were hurt as he surveyed what damage had been done.

 

“I don’t … how did the two of you even manage this?” Severus asked upon realising that the wall hadn’t just suffered a vanishing charm or anything as simple as that but had literally been blasted away. He could see bricks and wood scattered across the ground below. This was going to take a hell of a lot of tidying up.

 

The two teenagers looked to one another again, hardly containing their laughter, “We were only playing with the chemistry set you gave me, Dad,” Harry said a little too innocently for Severus’ liking making him believe that it wasn’t exactly as simple as that.

 

Severus turned on his son, looking at him dubiously. “A muggle chemistry set wouldn’t do this,” the potions master said, motioning at the absent wall, “I don’t even know how you managed to achieve this … catastrophe.”

 

“It was Clay’s idea,” Harry mumbled.

 

“Hey!!” Clay protested, “It was not,” he gave his friend a sharp elbow to the ribs to show just how much he appreciated Harry pointing the figure at him, Harry however only sniggered, knowing full well that his Dad would never believe that one was to blame more than the other.

 

“Was too,” Harry returned a little louder.

 

“Enough,” Severus snapped, not wanting the twelve year olds to sink to such a toddler level of arguing, in no mood to deal with the toing and froing of the two that were quite clearly just trying to distract him from the matter at hand. “You two had better start cleaning up this mess, I need to go and do some damage control.”

 

“Damage control, Dad?” Harry asked, curiously.

 

“Yes, Harry Prince, damage control,” Severus said trying to keep his patience intact, “because I can see part of our chimney on the neighbours roof.”

 

At this declaration the young boys couldn’t contain themselves any longer and burst into hysterics again, almost unable to keep themselves standing upright they were laughing so hard. “Cool!” Clay exclaimed as he spotted what Severus had meant.

 

“No, Clayton, it is not ‘cool’ and don’t think I won’t be telling your father about this when he comes to pick you up!” That was enough to wipe the smile of Clay’s face at once. He could only imagine what Damon was going to say about the matter.

 

“You’re going to tell my Dad?” Clay asked nervously.

 

“Of course,” Severus snapped at him, “The two of us agreed upon your first misadventure that anything that involved body modifications or destruction of property were to be reported. I think this counts as destruction of property.”

 

“Dad… when you say body modification…” Harry began but was swiftly cut off by a glare from his father.

 

“Harry Prince, if you dare finish that sentence you will be grounded for a month!”


	9. Mummy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Harry and Severus snippet.

December 1984

 

“Daddy?” Harry asked, looking up at his father with large, innocent, green eyes. “Who's that lady?” he questioned, pointing at the photograph of a red headed woman holding a small, smiling baby in her arms.

 

It was a picture that took pride of place in the centre of their mantel piece; it was also one of the only pictures Severus had of the love of his life, his most beloved friend, and Harry's mother. He had had it framed as soon as he could, wanting to protect it; Harry would have little enough to remember his mother by without the picture becoming damaged too.

 

“That, my beautiful boy, is your Mummy,” Severus said, scooping up the four year old into his strong arms to give his son a cuddle. He fetched the photograph from its position on the mantelpiece before settling them down on the sofa together, almost accidentally squashing Baloo bear in the process.

 

“Mine,” the small boy said, stretching out his arms to accept his favourite cuddly toy, before father and son took a closer look at the picture. “Is that me?” Harry asked, jabbing a little finger at the glass, pointing to where his younger self sat in Lily’s arms, grinning and sucking on his fingers quite happily. Lily was smiling her beautiful smile, full of life and beauty; this was how Severus wanted Harry to remember his mother, happy, carefree and perfect.

 

The four year old had a curious expression on his face when he looked up at his Daddy, cuddling Baloo to him as he waited, expectantly, for an answer. Severus smiled fondly at the little boy as Harry began sucking on one of Baloo bear's paws, something he seemed to find comfort in.

 

“Yes,” Severus said, placing a soft kiss to the unruly mass of raven hair that sat atop his young son’s head. “She loved you very much, little one.” He never wanted Harry to doubt that; Severus was happy to take Potter's place as Harry's father but he would never let anyone replace Lily.

 

“Where is Mummy?” Harry asked innocently and Severus sighed; he knew that this difficult day would come but he hadn’t thought that it would come this soon. Harry was a smart boy, the signs of accidental wandless magic were astonishing but for him to ask about Lily was something he hadn’t expected for at least a little while longer yet, though he supposed he had been asking for trouble displaying her photograph the way he did. He just didn’t want either of them to forget her.

 

“Mummy is in heaven,” Severus tried to explain, not really sure what to tell him. “She’s being looked after by angels now.” There were still occasional moments like this one where he felt completely out of his depth with being a father to little Harry; of course, the little boy was completely worth it all. He knew that there would likely always be times when he felt as if he were drowning, but most of the time he could just float and he took comfort in that.

 

“Can we go and visit Mummy?” Harry asked.

 

He was looking at his dad with eyes that made Severus’ heart melt every time he looked into them. They really were so like the ones that he could see in the picture of his darling Lily, and yet at some point he had definitely stopped thinking of those beautiful eye’s as hers and began to think of them as Harry’s.

 

“No, Harry, we can’t” Severus said sadly, wishing that it were possible but there was no spell to bring back the dead, he only wished that there were. “But she never leaves us, she watches over you and protects you and you’ll always have me, I’m not going to go anywhere.”

 

“Love you, Daddy,” Harry said as he snuggled into his Dad, Baloo bear still cuddled in his arms, the paw shoved back into his mouth to be chewed at and sucked on.

 

Severus tucked his arms tighter around the little body, holding him close. “Love you too, little one,” the older man said softly placing another light kiss upon the top of his son’s head.

 

Harry seemed completely unfazed by the conversation about his mother, but Severus, despite himself, felt emotionally drained. He wondered vaguely if he would always miss her as much as he did now, because the years since her death had done nothing to ease his pain. Perhaps it was better that Harry had been too young to remember what he had lost, for he would never wish this heartache upon the little boy in his arms.


	10. Modifications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Clay mischief making.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a gift to our most loyal readers who review everything we post. (You know who you are)

November 1991

 

“You installed a pool table in your basement,” Severus stated dryly, looking at Damon with scepticism.

 

“I saw Harry playing at that youth club the boys like to disappear off to. When I went to pick them up I saw that they were playing the other kids for cash,” Damon said, sounding a little unhappy, though perhaps slightly impressed by the initiative of it too.

 

“Hmmm” Severus hummed with disapproval, “I did wonder where he got that extra money from.”

 

“Yes, well, it appears that he has rather a talent for it,” Damon said, “I thought we might let the boys have some fun.”

 

“By all means,” Severus said in amusement, as Damon smiled at him. He moved from the kitchen where they’d been stood talking, into the hallway where he called to the boys from the bottom of the stairs, Severus following just behind him.

 

The two teenagers had been suspiciously quiet in Harry’s bedroom. Whenever the two of them went silent it was usually time to worry because it meant that they were up to something. Low and behold, when Harry and Clay came down the stairs, into sight of their waiting parents, both of them were looking a little sheepish.

 

Clayton now looked like a reject from the Mr Blobby show, his skin bright pink and covered in yellow polka dots. Harry on the other hand was looking more like a fish than a ten year old boy, seeing as his skin was now covered in neon blue scales.

 

“Do I want to know?” Damon asked with an amused look between the pair of them.

 

“I hope those scales aren’t permanent,” Severus commented.

 

“How many times have we told you, no body modifications!” Damon said looking between the two sulky looking teens, wanting one of them to come up with an explanation as to why or how.

 

“Clay wanted to get his nipple pierced and I said I wouldn’t do it for him!” Harry suddenly shouted.

 

“Yeah, well, Harry wanted to get a pink pygmy puff tattoo on his hip!” Clay shouted right back at him.

 

“Least I don’t look like Mr Blobby!”

 

“Least I’m not a mermaid!”

 

“ENOUGH!” Severus shouted, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, already starting to get a headache.

 

“You wanted to get what pierced?” Damon asked looking at his son incredulously. “Please tell me you didn’t succeed?” He had no idea what affect such a piercing would have during his transformation but he truthfully didn’t want to know.

 

“Harry Prince, if you have a tattoo…” Severus scowled.

 

Harry pushed the waistband of his jeans down a little, exposing his hip where, beneath the blue scales everyone could clearly see a bright pink pygmy puff. At the same time Clayton lifted up his t-shirt exposing the nipple that had a gold nipple ring hanging from it. His entire upper torso was electric pink with yellow polka dots and was quite a remarkable sight.

 

“I think I used the wrong spell the first time,” Clay said conversationally, while Damon stared at him; apparently both parents had been shocked momentarily into silence. “That one turned me all pink, but the second try did the piercing perfectly. Did the irremovable charm perfectly and everything,” he added proudly. “Though it was Harry who added the yellow spots… I kind of like them.”

 

“They were supposed to be revenge for these scales,” Harry said sulkily, though there was a definite twitch of an amused smile on his lips.

 

“And the tattoo?” Severus questioned, his voice dangerously quiet and his eyes were practically narrowed to slits by this point. Damon looked like he was trying to outdo Harry’s fish impression, the way his mouth was opening and closing as he failed to find words.

 

“It’s cute right,” Harry said, looking down at it proudly, “Once these scales fade a bit it'll look really pink. Not sure they’ll go away completely, Clay’s getting far too good at that irremovable charm.”

 

“CLAYTON DANES, tell me you DIDN’T cast that irremovable charm on Harry’s scales,” Damon yelled, and then he had to stop himself from laughing, because that was SO not a sentence he ever thought he would have to say. Though he did wonder what the Alpha might say seeing the boy he’d charged Damon to watch over suddenly becoming part fish.

 

“I was aiming for the tattoo,” Clay said in defence.

 

“But that tattoo is UNDER the scales!” Damon said.

 

“Ohhh...." Clayton said, with the tone of sudden realisation, "so that’s why it didn’t work the first time.”

 

“We really should have figured that out,” Harry said with a wry smile at his best friend.

 

“I hope you realise that you’re both in serious trouble!” Severus said coldly. “You’ll never be able to go out in public again if we can’t undo whatever you’ve done!”

 

Harry and Clay exchanged looks of amusement, grinning at each other with wild excitement in their eyes.

 

“What are you two looking so happy about? We just told you that you were going to be punished,” Damon said with confusion. He was half worried the two of them had something else up their sleeves.

 

“Shall we put them out of their misery?” Harry asked, withdrawing his wand.

 

“Let’s,” Clay returned, drawing his wand as well and both aim at each other.

 

“No,” Severus cried out, thinking they were about to add to the mess they had already made.

 

“What the…” Damon began as the two boys shouted 'finite incantatem' at one another.

 

The two fathers were once again completely speechless as their sons stood before them looking every bit the normal human boys that they had that morning. They had tricked them; Harry and Clay had actually had them believing their little story.

 

“Home, now, Clayton,” Damon said firmly, only feeling more aggravated by how amused the two young boys seemed to be.

 

“Perhaps we can join you,” Severus suggested with a devious smile upon his lips, which made Harry decidedly nervous.

 

“Dad?” Harry questioned hesitantly. He had just pulled a big prank and had their Dads seriously worried, he knew he was in trouble, but being invited to go over to Clay’s house didn’t really sound like a punishment; he just couldn’t figure out what his Dad was up to and that probably didn’t bode well for him.

 

“Damon just purchased a pool table,” Severus told his son.

 

“REALLY?” Harry and Clay asked together, with matching excited grins.

 

“Really…” Damon said dryly, looking at Severus with curiosity. He certainly hadn’t planned to let either of the boys in on that yet, not after the stunt they’d just pulled.

 

“Oh yes, and I thought Damon and I might learn to play this evening,” Severus suggested.

 

“Oh…” Damon said, a smile now twitching on his lips. “What an excellent idea.”

 

“But the boys… clearly they can’t be trusted unsupervised,” Severus said with mock sadness.

 

“That’s okay,” Damon told him, with a wide victorious grin. “I have a rather large store cupboard right next to the room with the pool table. I am sure Harry and Clayton would LOVE to help me sort out the mess in there. Wouldn’t you, boys?”

 

Harry looked horrified, “you want us to tidy a cupboard while you play pool?” he asked.

 

“Did you think you would go unpunished, Harry?” Severus asked, his eyebrows raised, daring his son to challenge him on it.

 

“Punished, of course, but that is like torture or something, Dad?” Harry said dramatically. “You’re so evil,” he added crossing his arms over his chest and pouting.

 

“Funnily enough, you are not the first person to tell me that, but I am glad to hear I have not lost my touch,” Severus told his son with a mildly amused smile.

 

“I want to know who told him that before,” Clay muttered irritably.

 

“You’ll never find out, Clayton, they didn’t survive their punishment,” Severus said pointedly to Clay. Harry rolled his eyes, his Dad liked to believe he was scary with his brooding moods but Harry knew just how much of a teddy bear he was really.

 

“I think we are going to have to add body modifications to things that we have to tell each other about,” Damon told Severus, as he frowned at his son.

 

“Agreed, I think we both need to be kept informed with regards to anything involving body modifications, as well as destruction of property,” Severus said dryly; a glare quickly silenced the giggle he heard start to escape from Harry’s lips.

 

FGHP

 

It had taken a little while to get shoes and coats on the two grumbling and complaining boys. Eventually Damon had told them that every minute they wasted was another day that they would go without being allowed near the pool table, and that had sped up the process considerably.

 

As it was the boys had been shown to the store cupboard and then Damon had started to teach Severus how to play pool. It was not a game he had ever had a reason or opportunity to play before and, while he didn’t object to it particularly, he did not believe it would be an activity he would be partaking in on a regular basis. Damon, however, seemed to be taking great joy in teaching Severus something new.

 

They had to remember to regularly check on the two boys, who seemed to actually be doing rather a good job of sorting Damon’s nightmare of a storage room, into some semblance of order; though both boys were wearing rather sour expressions.

 

“But we’ve done so much, Dad,” Harry complained, when Severus came to check on them, letting his arms flop dramatically to his sides as though this would prove how exhausted he was.

 

“Then it won’t take you long to finish,” Severus stated, before returning the pool room to try and at least beat Damon once. The other man was annoying good at the game and Severus was starting to wonder if Damon was discretely casting charms to knock some of the balls in.

 

“Your Dad really is evil,” Clay stated, dropping himself down to sit on one of the numerous storage boxes. “I mean, we have got to have been doing this for like… Ten HOURS,” he exclaimed.

 

“Try two,” Harry shot back after casting a spell to tell him the time, “but I agree. I am sooooooo bored,” he told his best friend as he sat on one of the other boxes and leaned against the wall.

 

“Me too,” Clay agreed, glaring at the pile of things they still had to sort onto shelves; Severus was right though, they really were almost done.

 

Suddenly there was a creaking sound and then a crunch as Harry half disappeared into the box he was sitting on. Clay nearly wet himself as he burst out laughing at the sight of his friend’s limbs sticking out of the top of the large box.

 

“A little help please, Clay?” Harry asked, wiggling his arms and legs about in an attempt to free himself, but Clay just laughed even harder.

 

“What are you…?” Damon asked as he hurried into the room, having heard the loud noise from the room next door. He paused mid-sentence as he saw Clay, who was barely able to breathe from laughing so hard, and turned to see Harry, who was most definitely stuck in the one of the storage boxes.

 

“Harry Prince,” Severus with an exasperated sigh, as he came into the room and went to pull his son out of the box, “why is it that everything always seems to happen to you?”

 

“I didn’t exactly do it on purpose, Dad!” Harry grumbled as he was pulled out of the box.

 

As his Dad set him back on his feet he reached behind himself and pulled off a piece of paper that had been stuck to his back. It seemed to be a picture of three children, two young boys and an even younger girl, by the looks of it. They were all a little on the skinny side and younger than he and Clay were, and Harry thought that their clothes looked scruffy and ill-fitting.

 

Clay seemed to have mostly recovered from his laughing fit and hurried over to Harry’s side to see what he was looking at. “Is this you, Dad?” he asked, jabbing a finger at the smaller of the two boys in the picture.

 

Damon peered into the box that Harry had just been removed from and nearly cursed when he realised which one it was. It contained pretty much everything he had from his childhood and enough things that could raise some very unwelcome questions, but Clay had seen pictures of him when he was younger before and so it wasn’t overly surprising that his son had recognised him in the picture, though this was the oldest photo he had.

 

Moving over to where Harry, Clay and now Severus were peering at the picture, he smiled as he remembered that day. One of the other kids at the orphanage had found an old camera and had wanted to test it out, none of them had been really in the mood for it, and Fenrir had sulked something fierce, but Callie had talked them into agreeing.

 

“Yeah, that’s me, Clayton,” Damon agreed, taking the picture from his son.

 

“Who are the other two people?” Harry asked curiously, peering over Damon’s arm to have another look, taking in the younger face of Damon, the too large clothes that were dirty and all three of the children in the picture looked a little tired with dark circles under their eyes.

 

“My younger sister and my best friend,” Damon told him simply, slipping the picture into his back pocket carefully. “That was a very long time ago, Harry. Now...” he said, looking around the little room. He was actually rather impressed with what the two boys had managed, not to mention he was keen to get them out of there and put a stop to the questions before they could really get started. “... I think the two of you have probably done enough to earn one game of pool before dinner.”

 

“REALLY?” Harry and Clay exclaimed with disbelief. Harry had honestly been wondering if his Dad was ever going to let him play after the prank they had pulled earlier.

 

“Yes, really,” Damon said, glad that the boys had taken the bait, “Come on Harry, show us your skills.”

 

When he had seen the photograph of himself, Callie and Fenrir from their childhood he had panicked; it could have ruined everything if Severus recognised Fenrir; as far as werewolves go his friend was pretty infamous after all. Thankfully, though, the man everyone would recognise now was a far cry from the scrawny boy in the picture.

 

“Ghosts from the past?” Severus asked Damon, as their sons rushed out of the storeroom to go set up and play a game of pool.

 

He had noticed the expression on Damon’s face that spoke of a strong reluctance to discuss the photograph. Severus had often wondered about the other man’s past but the two of them seemed to have some unspoken agreement not to ask too many questions about such things, and given how well that worked for him and Harry, he wasn’t not going to push the issue.

 

“Something like that,” Damon said, with a reassuring smile and a pat to Severus’ shoulder. “We better go check on the boys, before they blow up the pool table… or my basement… or each other,” he added with a look of worry, leading the way towards Harry and Clayton’s excited shouts.


	11. Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Micha when he was sixteen.

Fragmented Soul: The Fluffy Bits

 

Challenge

 

June 1986

 

“I challenge you!” Reid bellowed, attracting the attention of the whole pack as he squared up to his Alpha.

 

Tristan, the pack Alpha, was a head taller than him and a pure mass of solid muscle. Not that Reid wasn’t; he was certainly an impressive man but his delusions of grandeur had grown to the extent that this was the inevitable step. The current Alpha had not been challenged in a decade and very few had been unhappy with his leadership but Reid believed that he deserved to be more than he was. He wanted the top positioning.

 

With the challenge issued, Tristan finally had the excuse he needed to rid his pack of the trouble maker. He had wanted to take Reid down a peg or two for years but the now twenty year old male had not given him good enough reason to do so. Tristan was sorry that it had come to this but he wasn’t sorry that it would soon be over. It was such a shame that Reid’s supporters would have to die as well but their pack would still be strong without them. Reid had been causing problems for far too long now and the Alpha couldn’t ignore a direct challenge like this.

 

Watching the exchange between the two dominant males on Reid's side were the handful of supporters that Reid had gathered to his cause plus his parents and baby brother, Micha. Neither of his parents had wanted Reid to take this path, they had tried to dissuade him from it but to no avail; they knew that it was bound to end in disaster but as their eldest son they would support him, even if it meant their deaths too and at this point there was no backing down from it.

 

Behind his mother, sixteen year old Micha cowered, watching his big brother fearfully, horrified about what was going to happen next. He had always been the baby of the family and treated as such, mollycoddled and protected by his mother, who had known that he would never be in the same league as his big brother or the Alpha.

 

Micha was special, he was submissive and she loved her delicate little boy who had needed her so much more than her eldest had. Reid had been trained and taught to hunt and fight by their father since he could walk, but not Micha. He was kept safely away from such things; he was no smaller than a boy of his age without lycanthropy would be but that was still small for a werewolf.

 

The eldest of her two sons was a large, strong dominant wolf, one that the boys' father was extremely proud of; Reid had been taught all that he needed to survive. His ego had been primped and fluffed all his life and this was the result of that; it was a challenge that should never have been issued and a fight that could have been avoided.

 

Reid was ready to fight as faced the Alpha with determination, strength and not a tremor of fear, but even the thought of battle scared the teenage Micha. His body trembled as he looked upon the reality of it; he watched his big brother square up to the Alpha, a man whom he had been taught to respect and obey his entire life, was nothing short of terrifying. He knew that if, the Alpha, Tristan won this fight then his brother would be dead, and vice versa too. Both of them were men he had known his entire life and he was sure that he didn't wanted to lose either of them tonight; however he understood that now the challenge had been issued there was no going back; they couldn't both survive; one of them would die.

 

“Mum, what’s going to happen?” Micha asked, his voice wavering a little as Reid and Tristan leapt for each other, fists flying, claws out and teeth bared. He couldn't watch and turned his wide eyes to look at his mother; her sandy blonde hair and purple eyes both matched his own, as did the fear they showed.

 

“I don’t know sweet boy,” she said; her voice was soft but Micha could hear the fear in her tone as much as he could see it on her face.

 

It was almost as if she knew that her eldest son was going to die and she knew that there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. She brought her younger boy into her arms and held him there, shielding him from the violence while watching it with a keen eye herself. If she was going to lose her eldest child tonight then she wanted to watch.

 

Though Micha couldn't see what was happening, he could hear everything; the vicious blows being struck and the pack around them shouting and yelling, calling out their support and anger, but this was a fight just for Reid and the Alpha. The two of them would receive no backup or assistance; no one could intervene without punishment, it had to be a fair, one on one fight. Whoever won would be the Alpha male and anyone who dared to question it would be killed.

 

“Stop coddling the boy,” Micha's father hissed beside them but his words only made her draw her arms around her youngest boy tighter.

 

Micha clung to his mother, thankful that he couldn’t see the brutality of the fight between two men that he cared for a great deal, however his mother’s protective arms could never have stopped the sounds nor the smell of blood as it was spilt. Micha buried his nose into his mother, inhaling her floral scent, committing it to memory. He had a bad feeling about how this was going to end and he never wanted to forget; tears were threatening to fall but he wanted to prove himself and stay strong for his mother.

 

Her heart nearly broke in two as Reid fell to the floor, his lip bleeding, his right eye almost swollen shut. Her eldest son was going to die; she didn't doubt that and in that moment she knew it was going to go bad for the rest of them too. She pushed Micha away from her, taking his head into her hands, ensuring that she met his eyes.

 

“Survive, sweet boy, you must survive,” she said simply, it was the only thing she had left to hope for and there was nothing she could do to help him.

 

Not knowing what else to do Micha nodded his head and she placed a soft kiss upon his forehead and told him that she loved him. “Mum?” Micha questioned, tears welling up in his eyes as she pushed him backwards such that he fell to the floor; she wouldn't have him in the path of the inevitable attack on her.

 

The scent of blood was overwhelming now that he was away from his mother and he knew that it was his brother’s blood that filled their home. Reid had lost the fight and, as that knowledge sunk in, tears start to stream down his cheeks, blurring the horrifying images of the home he had known and loved his whole life. He scrambled backwards until his back hit the trunk of a tree, where he curled up, hiding his head against his knees not wanting to see any more.

 

He heard a horrified scream that made his blood run cold. His eyes snapped up to see his mother kneeling upon the ground; her hands were covering her mouth and her eyes were fixed on the lifeless body of her mate. Micha didn’t even have a moment to shout out a warning as the Beta wolf of their pack, Jared, came up behind her, his hands gripping on either side of her head and twisting.

 

Unable to make a sound, Micha struggled for breath as his mother’s body fell to the ground, lifeless and limp. It felt as if his chest was constricting as he struggled to pull air into his lungs; his body was trembling as he saw the Beta turn and start approaching him too. In that moment he didn’t think that he was going to last longer than the next few minutes and in that moment he didn’t care. His family was dead; he had nothing left. He could accept death, even if it scared him.

 

Micha had known Jared for his whole life; just like the rest of the wolves in the pack, they had grown up together. Jared was the same age as Reid had been, they had been childhood friends. Micha had always looked up to the both of them even though he had never been allowed to play with them; he remembered tearfully with a tight pain in his chest how his mother had always said that they were too boisterous.

 

If only she had known that Jared would grow up to be her murderer; the thought tore a heart wrenching sob from his throat. He couldn’t believe that his parents were dead, even with their bodies within sight. He closed his eyes, unable to take anymore, unable to watch as Jared stepped ever closer. Micha understood why the Beta had killed his parents but the pain was too raw for him to accept it and he was glad that his impending death would mean he would never have to.

 

“Leave him,” a familiar voice barked out suddenly, making Micha look up again in surprise.

 

At the command Jared had stopped his approach. It was Tristan who had given the order, Jared wouldn’t have listened to anyone else. Micha couldn’t understand why, he should be dead; there was a part of him that really wanted to be dead just so it wouldn't hurt so much anymore. That was how it went, there was no forgiveness or reprieve. His older brother had made a challenge for the position of Alpha wolf, those that had supported him had to die.

 

It had never been his choice, not really , because he would never have been able to choose between Reid and Tristan, they were both his family and he had never really been offered a choice.  However, he had remained by his mother’s side, loyal to her above all others because she was the one he had always been closest to in the pack.

 

“My Alpha…?” Jared queried.

 

“Look at him, he means no harm,” Tristan said, his voice filled with authority and lacking sympathy. Micha wasn’t stupid, he could hear that he wasn’t going to be allowed to stay here even if he was permitted to live because as the Alpha male of the pack, Tristan couldn’t be seen to show weakness. “Let him be exiled, he won’t survive the next winter alone, let him go.”

 

Jared smirked, turning from Tristan to look at Micha who could hardly move, he was in so much shock. His family was dead and gone, the word exiled ringing in his ears. “Run, little wolf, run,” Jared said, his tone filled with mocking. Micha didn’t need to be told twice. Scrambling to his feet, tears still streaming down his cheeks he started to run just as Jared had instructed.

 

He couldn’t look at his old pack as he went; he could never have looked upon those faces that he had known since he was a pup, of people he had grown up with and loved but yet none of them would do anything to stop this. They would do nothing to help him because they would not go against their Alpha. So Micha ran and he didn’t look back and he didn’t stop running until he knew that he couldn’t anymore.

                


	12. The Alpha's daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Micha at age twenty.

April 1990

 

At twenty years old Micha had never really fit in anywhere, not since his exile at just sixteen years old, from the pack he had been born into; the day that his idiotic older brother had challenged the Alpha for dominance had changed everything and cost him all but his life. He had spent the last four years of his life floating from pack to pack, never really belonging, never being trusted and having nothing to call his own.

 

He hadn’t known loneliness until then, but now it was a familiar feeling to Micha; he still frequently missed his mother and the sheltered life he had had back then, and there had been days when he had wished that Tristan had just let Jared kill him, like he had his parents. But he was alive and things had taken a turn for the better when he had come across the Pearson pack.

 

Micha sat by the fire for warmth, stick in hand as he prodded at the ground, lost in his thoughts; he looked up for a moment at the pack around him. It had only been a couple of weeks since he had been allowed to join them but he found that he actually liked it here; it was certainly a darn sight better than he had been treated in any of the other packs he had come across. As long as he pulled his weight they fed him and permitted him a hide to sleep under plus space close to the fire to keep warm, they had even given him clothes to replace the rags he had been wearing upon arrival.

 

It was a relatively small pack though and he was the first outsider to be allowed in in a number of years, which didn’t bode well for him being allowed to stay on a more permanent basis. With the current climate he was never permitted to stay for long in any of the packs that he had stumbled across; no-one wanted to place too much trust in someone unknown and most of the packs he had come across had chased him away without a second thought.

 

It tore him apart to know that he wouldn’t be able to stay here for long and, for once, that had nothing to do with the pack or where it was located, it had everything to do with the fact that he had foolishly allowed himself to fall in love. He probably fell harder and faster than he should have but she was his first love and he was young, there was no reason or logic, there was only her.

 

He looked over at the girl who was sat a short distance away from him, laughing infectiously with one of her pack brothers; Micha couldn’t help but smile. Lyla was two years younger than him at just eighteen, with the most beautiful long black hair and kind light blue eyes, her skin a pale ghostly white and flawless. She was the most stunning young woman that he had ever seen.

 

Unfortunately she was also the one and only child of the Pearson pack’s Alpha wolf. Henry Pearson, loved and adored his daughter more than anything else in the world; her mother and twin sister had died during the birth and that had only made Henry, her father, all the more protective of his only child; Lyla Pearson had even been named after the mother that had died to give her life.

 

Despite knowing that she was off limits to him he had still fallen for her. She had caught Micha’s eye the moment he walked into the pack; he had been smitten the moment he had seen her sweet smile and in no time at all she had captured his heart with her laugh. The idea that she was the forbidden fruit had only made the desire to be with her more intense; and two weeks later Micha knew that he was doomed, but couldn’t even bring himself to care, surely she would be worth it.

 

FGHP

 

It had been around three months since he had joined the Pearson pack and he was happy; he knew it was the stupidly smitten kind of happiness that fools in love always bragged about, but Lyla was everything he had hoped and more. Not least because she returned his affections with as much intensity as he felt them.

 

Their stolen kisses in the far corners of the territory and clandestine meetings were what they had both started living for. It had taken only a few weeks for the two of them to fall in love with one another and, when they had started to make love, it had been the first time for the both of them, making it even more special.

 

How they had managed to hide their relationship for nearly three months, Micha wasn’t even sure; to start with he had been certain that they would be caught at any moment, but the pack seemed to still be oblivious. Henry was suspicious, as was the Beta, Dylan, but he and Lyra had not been caught; if that wasn’t the case then Micha was sure he would be dead, or at least not being permitted to stay.

 

“Micha,” Lyla whispered, pulling him from his thoughts as she threaded her fingers with his and reached up to steal a quick kiss from his lips.

 

“Hi,” he whispered back, a goofy smile on his face as she pulled away. “Love you,” he told her simply.

 

Lyla beamed at him. “Love you too,” she replied, and the expression on her face told Micha that she was every bit as besotted as he was.

 

It was a little heart-breaking to see, in truth, because he already knew that it couldn’t be forever and he was starting to think that their time together was coming to an end. Lyla’s father, Henry, was already suspicious of him and had asked his Beta, Dylan, to watch over Micha closely and it was getting increasingly difficult to sneak away.

 

The Beta Dylan had been in love with Lyla since they were young pups and he hated Micha with a passion. He would have done anything to see the outsider chased out of the pack or even killed. Dylan had hated it when he had seen how Lyla had been falling for another when he had always been the one who was supposed to end up with her.

 

Lyla’s hands were already busy starting to undress Micha when he heard something, someone. He pressed a finger to her lips to make sure she stayed quiet, the pair of them frozen still. He was already certain who it was even before he caught the Beta wolf’s scent on the air and Micha knew then that it was over; now he just wanted to get them both back to the clearing without being seen.

 

He knew that it was time to leave; there was no doubt that he would be killed for the love he had for Lyla. He never wanted to be parted from her, but he could no longer stay and Micha knew that he would never let her leave her family, not for him.

 

The worst feeling was that he knew that he wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to her. He couldn’t risk it, not without her wanting to come with him, and so as he led them back to the clearing as quietly as possible he decided that no matter how much he wanted to stay he would slip away in the dead of night and pray that she could be happy without him.

 

FGHP

 

Micha had just ignored the hatred with which Dylan had looked at him upon returning to the clearing a short while after he and Lyla had; it would not matter in a few hours anyway, because he would be long gone. The twenty year old waited only long enough to be sure that everyone was asleep before he gathered the very few possessions he had and left; he felt a twinge of guilt for the small amount of food he stole and wrapped in the hide they had given him, but it would hopefully keep him alive for the next few days.

 

His heart ached with every step away from Lyla that he took but he knew that it was for the best; she would find love again, she would live a full and beautiful life without him and he would become nothing more than a memory of first love. He would treasure his memories of the dark haired beauty; he would never forget the image of the way she smiled up at him from where she was laying naked on a hide after they had first made love.

 

And now, as he left her behind the familiar feelings of loneliness and loss started to settle themselves into his heart once more. He would travel far enough and find himself somewhere as safe as possible to sleep alone tonight, then tomorrow he would get up and move on, because what other choice did he have.

 

“Goodbye, Lyla,” he whispered, willing himself to find all the strength he had learned since his exile before he turned and walked away.

 

FGHP

 

As morning broke and the Pearson pack began to rouse, it quickly became apparent that Micha was gone. Some of the pack was pleased, others were relieved but there was only one who cried for his loss. Her stomach churning and her heart in tatters, she had had no clue that he had been planning to leave. They had had a couple of narrow escapes where they had almost been caught but leaving… it had never crossed her mind that he might be thinking about it.

 

It had been a close call the night before, she knew that Dylan had almost caught them and that was why they had returned to the clearing so much sooner than planned, but Micha loved her and she didn’t understand why he was gone without a word. There had been no hints or forewarnings; she would have begged him to stay and failing that she would have gone with him.

 

“Daddy, please, we have to find him,” Lyla begged following after her father as he walked across their clearing away from her.

 

Henry was not going to be persuaded. He had never liked the boy, Micha had been a loose cannon and he was glad to be rid of him, and the way his daughter was already pining and pleading after him did nothing to improve his opinion of young man. He and Dylan had both suspected that something was going on between Micha and Lyla, but he was glad the boy at least had enough sense to leave before being caught. He didn’t like the boy but he had had no wish to end his life as he would have likely done if Micha had laid one finger on his little girl.

 

“No ,Lyla,” Henry said firmly, stopping and turning to give his daughter a stern glare. “He didn’t belong here, he was right to go.”

 

“You can’t say that,” she said, tears running down her pale cheeks, panic flaring in her light blue eyes, “I love him.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous…” Henry said.

 

“He loves me!” she yelled in frustration, desperate to make him realise.

 

“And that’s why he left is it?” Henry pointed out, wanting his daughter to see that the boy was nothing more than trouble. He wouldn’t have her pining after some no good lad who was long gone with no intention of looking back.

 

“He was scared, you would have killed him,” she said, angrily brushing away her tears; she was hurt that her own father had played such a part in chasing away the man she loved. Though why she had suspected anything else she didn’t know.

 

“If he loved you so much, why didn’t he take you with him?” Dylan asked, resting a hand on her shoulder that she shrugged off. She couldn’t stand him anywhere near her, let alone touching her. He had been just as much at fault for Micha leaving as her father had.

 

She didn’t know though, why hadn’t he take her with him. She would have gone, she was sure of that; she loved Micha and when the alternative was staying and being pushed into mating with someone else, someone she despised, there was no comparison to where she would most want to be, especially knowing what she knew, what she had never found the chance to tell Micha. Lyla let out a pained sob of despair, her hand pressed to her belly as she crouched down wanting to just curl up and cry.

 

Henry’s eyes went wide as his eighteen year old daughter’s hand came to rest upon her abdomen. “No…” he said with disbelief and a flare of anger. For the first time that morning he wished that Micha was still there, just so he could kill the boy for doing such a thing to his daughter.

 

“Daddy, please,” Lyla begged, turning her tear stained face to look up at him pleadingly.

 

“You’ll get rid of it,” Henry stated, ensuring she knew that there was no room for negotiation. Dylan was still staring at the eighteen year old in shock at the revelation. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out what was going on when he saw where her hand had come to rest. The thought that she had let Micha touch her like that sickened him, Lyla was supposed to be his!

 

“No,” Lyla said firmly, getting to her feet and backing away from the two men.

 

“You’ll get rid of it or leave,” Henry told her, his voice deadly and quiet. That little shit, Micha, had been given a home in their pack; they had trusted him and THIS was how the boy repaid their kindness? And Lyla, his little girl, his only child, he had defiled her. He couldn’t help but wonder how it had come to this.

 

“Then I’ll leave,” Lyla shouted stubbornly, attracting the attention of the rest of the pack.

 

She didn’t meet any of their eyes as she stormed away from her father and the Beta wolf, who was glaring at her furiously, as though she had cheated on him and in his warped mind, she had. However she was determined to protect her unborn child; the only part of Micha she had left, she realised, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. No one was going to make her get rid of it, not even her father.

 

“Lyla!” Henry yelled angrily after his retreating daughter.

 

She didn’t even react though as she began gathering up her clothing and few belongings. She moved fast, only grabbing things that she needed to survive and keep moving as she knew that she had to go quickly; every moment she wasted Micha’s scent was fading and it would be more difficult to follow him. She didn’t even know how many hours behind she already was.

 

“Stop, this instant,” the Alpha tried again, but his daughter just turned away from him, grabbing everything she thought she might need, throwing it into the backpack before she slung it over her shoulder. “LYLA!”

 

Finally she stopped, sighed and turned to him. She went up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Bye, Daddy, I will always love you,” she whispered before turning away from him and running to the edge of the clearing before he could stop her. His arms reached out to grab at her but she was already gone, the combination of his surprise and shock had made him hesitate just a second too long and she had almost literally slipped through his fingers.

 

“LYLA!” He shouted after her to no avail. She had her mother’s fiery attitude and in his heart of hearts he knew that there was no stopping her.

 

She heard her father’s cry as she ran, but she wouldn’t stop, she had to find Micha. Tears filled her eyes, as she desperately followed the clear path he had taken; his footprints in the mud an easy trail to follow, but he was clear to her now that she couldn’t follow his scent.

 

She tried, so very hard, for hours, but her pregnancy hormones were messing up her senses as she realised the trail really had gone cold, that there were no more footprints to follow, and that Micha was lost to her, gone, she fell to her knees. She was alone, so very alone; no pack; no Micha. There was no going back now, her father would never accept her child and there was only one thing that Lyla was sure of now, and that was that their child would live; preferably free and happy.

 

“Micha!” she called out in a last ditch attempt, before she cried in earnest, her arms wrapped around her still flat belly that contained their unborn child. The baby would be loved and cherished and she would never stop looking for Micha, never. 


	13. Lyla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened after Lyla left her old pack.

Lyla

 

December 1990

 

With no other leads left on where to go, Lyla had searched high and low for the pack that Micha had been born into after leaving her own pack behind. She had left her family the morning after Micha had vanished; their unborn baby growing inside of her. She had been so certain that she would find him before the child came to term and was born, sure that the two of them would be parents together. Lyla had held on to this hope and, even though it was now December and her swollen stomach was impeding her search for Micha, she still kept searching.

 

She had very little to go on. They had lain together and spoken of his past but despite listening intently she had not received a specific location and Micha had been very closed off about much of what had happened in his past, finding it too hard to talk about. All she knew was that his older brother had challenge the Alpha and lost. For this Micha’s brother and their parents had been killed but he had been exiled, allowed to go free and live.

 

It was Lyla's hope that he might have returned to his old pack. It had been four, almost five years since the offence and he had proven himself worthwhile and he had survived despite it being thought that he wouldn't. She thought that he might have returned to them as he was always talking about being in a pack where he truly belonged. He had always struggled to find that and besides she had no other leads and nowhere else to go.

 

She was eight months into her pregnancy now and she was close to them, she was sure. She could sense that she was on the edge of a claimed territory. Even though her hormones were still affecting her werewolf senses there were some things that you just knew and being on claimed territory was one of them. If she had this wrong and this wasn't Micha's old pack then she and her unborn baby would probably be killed but she ran that risk anyway. There were no certainties any more, not for her.

 

Stumbling blindly through the darkness and the wilderness she hoped and she prayed that she had found the right place and that they would take her in. She hadn't eaten in days, barely surviving at all. She was fearful for her baby, which she had not felt move in days. It scared her that her inability to provide and care for herself might have hurt the only piece of Micha that she had left. She had done a lot of praying in the past few months despite not knowing who or what would listen to a creature such as her.

 

Spent and exhausted she had nothing left. When her foot caught on a root and she fell she honestly believed that she would never get up again, twisting her body so to protect her bump as she fell. Sobbing desperately, her long black hair a tangled mess of leaves and twigs, her once flawless, pale skin now covered in dirt and grime as she clutched desperately at her large swollen belly, protectively.

 

She was so tired and so hungry. She had struggled and fought for so long and felt as if she had gotten nowhere. She had failed, not only herself but her baby as well, not to mention Micha, who would never know about his child or how long and desperately that she had searched for him.

 

As her vision blurred and unconsciousness threatened to take her she caught the scent of another wolf and her heart lurched. It would mean either her salvation or her destruction and currently she would have asked for nothing more than for her child to be spared and given sanctuary even if her life was forfeit. She would have died happy knowing that her baby lived on.

 

Just as her body failed her and she blacked out into nothingness she felt strong arms encircle her and lift her from the ground. The scent that encompassed her was not a familiar one but she found it to be a comfort. She accepted the embrace without fuss and allowed her body to give out.

 

FGHP

 

“What's going on?” Jared asked as he spied his Alpha male returning to the clearing. They had all smelt the intruder on their lands, heard her as she ran but to see her being carried into their home by their large Alpha male was something else. 

 

“Fetch some supplies,” Tristan barked as he lay the heavily pregnant female down close to the fire. The poor girl’s clothes were ragged and torn; she was filthy and seemed to be rather underfed, her tiny body looking highly out of proportion with her swollen belly protruding awkwardly.

 

Tristan Stanwood was not a wolf to be trifled with. Six foot four and a solid mass of muscle; light blond hair that was kept long and tied at the nape of his neck. He was twenty-eight years old and had lived through a challenge to his position in the pack once already. He was respected and feared in equal measure, he had kept his pack safe and they were not about to argue with any command he gave.

 

“Who is she, my Alpha?” A young girl asked; she sounded fearful, as if the question might warrant punishment but she was looking upon the unconscious werewolf with nothing but curiosity.

 

“I don't know, Sophia,” Tristan said, trying to keep his voice calm, though if he got asked anything more insidious he might not act as kindly. “Go and fetch your mother. We'll need her.”

 

The timid seventeen year old girl nodded; she had been learning her mother’s skills for a week or so now but she had no idea where to begin with dealing with the pregnant girl. Her mother had trained at St Mungo's until she had been bitten and forced to leave her post. Apparently Witches and Wizards weren't entirely comfortable with leaving their medical care in the hands of a werewolf, no matter how capable.

 

As Sophia ran off, Jared returned, carrying in his arms all that they had in the way of medicine and bandages. It wasn't much but then they weren't expecting for anyone to stumble on them, injured or not. He knelt down to the side of the young girl, on the other side of her to Tristan, as the Alpha male started to sniff out any possible injuries on her.

 

He was glad to see that there were only minor cuts and grazes upon her skin, all of which were slowly starting to heal, though not as fast as they should have been. It seemed that the worst of her problems would be malnutrition and dehydration and that would also be what was preventing her from healing properly as a werewolf should.

 

“She's one of us,” Jared stated simply and Tristan nodded. “Do you know her?”

 

“No,” he replied, another wolf coming to join them. “Jared, back off, give Felicity some space,” the Alpha ordered.

 

Instantly the Beta wolf, Jared did as he was told. However he didn't go far, remaining close by to watch over her; there was something about her that had captured him so completely. Despite her condition, the grime and dirt he could that she was beautiful.

 

“Dehydrated, severely malnourished, especially in her condition,” Felicity said with a sad shake of her head. “She'll be fine but she needs food and water.”

 

Tristan nodded his head and looked to the rest of his pack, beginning to bark out orders; he didn't owe anything to this girl but he wasn't made of stone. If he turned her away or turned a blind eye to her then she and her unborn child would die. She was so young and he was curious as to how such a young and beautiful girl could have ended up alone and pregnant in the world.

 

FGHP

 

Lyla blinked her eyes open. It was something that she wasn't expecting to ever do again. She felt warm and relaxed; it was nicer than she had felt in a long while and for a fraction of a second she had thought that she was actually dead and that this was heaven. However that illusion was quickly shattered when she felt her baby kick inside her stomach.

 

She gasped, her hands moving to her swollen belly in shock. “You're alive,” she whispered in complete shock and so grateful that her baby was so strong, stronger than her. Her gasp of shock and whispered words had caught the attention of others and instantly there was a large blonde man and a slight brunette female hovering over her, asking her if she were okay.

 

“How are you feeling?” The handsome blond man asked her. She looked up at him, feeling completely stupid as nerves overwhelmed her and she failed to find words to answer him.

 

“My baby,” she managed to say, “I thought... I hadn't felt it for days.”

 

“Your baby is fine, perfectly healthy actually, which considering all you’ve been through is remarkable. You have a strong child there,” the brunette said with a smile as she handed Lyla a mug of water to drink.

 

The mug was accepted gratefully and Lyla took small sips after the large, domineering wolf, whom she figured was the Alpha of the pack, helped her sit up a little. He supported her until he was sure that she was able to do it herself but he still remained close, watching her carefully.

 

“Just like it's daddy,” Lyla said fondly, rubbing her large stomach, affectionately, a soft smile on her face.

 

“Where is the father?” the obviously Alpha male asked and at the question Lyla flushed, unable to meet their gaze as she took another sip of her water. She had to be careful, sure they were helping her now but that might change when they found out that the father of her baby was Micha.

 

“I was looking for him,” she mumbled softly.

 

“He left you?” Tristan growled. If there one thing he hated, it was when men shirked their responsibilities, especially when it came to their children.

 

“He didn't know,” Lyla said, quickly jumping to Micha's defence. “It's complicated but it wasn't his fault, he didn't know.”

 

“I think you need to explain from the beginning,” the Alpha wolf said giving Lyla a pointed look and she nodded. It seemed that the petite brunette would be staying for the explanation as she began to cast diagnostic spells over her and the baby to check that they were doing okay.

 

“He left his original pack,” She said, be cautious to choose her words carefully until she knew if she had found the right place and the state of play here. “He found us, our pack and we accepted him in. My Dad didn’t like him much though and as the Alpha he had the final say; it was because he loved that he had to leave. He didn’t know about the baby, he was just trying to protect me.”

 

“And you’ve been looking for him,” The Alpha asked, “To tell him.”

 

Lyla nodded, “He’d want this as much as me, I just don’t know where he is, I was trying to find his original pack, I thought he might have come back,” she said and knew she sounded utterly hopeless and a little pathetic.

 

“So what are you doing here?” the Alpha asked suspiciously before it dawned on him. He wasn’t exactly stupid and it had made him wonder why she was here, so close to their territory. “You think we are his original pack,” hesitantly, Lyla nodded. “What was this wolfs name?”

 

“Micha,” Lyla said with trepidation, watching the Alpha wolf carefully. The brunette who had been tending to her wounds made a sudden intake of breath in shock. Lyla’s eyes switched to her instantly, however if she had remained looking at the Alpha male then she would have seen the shock mixed with relief on his face.

 

Tristan couldn’t have been more grateful for anything in his life. The guilt he had felt at being forced to send Micha away when he had done nothing wrong. He had liked the boy, more than that. It had killed him to exile him but he couldn’t be seen as weak and if Micha had stayed then he would have been killed. This way he was at least alive and now they had his unborn child here and Tristan knew what he was going to do. 

 

“You can stay with us,” the Alpha said at once, his decision made and final, no one would go against him.

 

“I can?” Lyla asked in shock. She was relieved that she had found his pack, but it was also obvious that Micha was not here with them, otherwise she was sure he would have been at her side. But neither her, nor her baby, were dead, and it seemed that they were going to let her stay.

 

“Yes,” he said. “My name is Tristan; this is my Beta, Jared and the woman tending to you is Felicity. We’re Micha’s old pack, but he isn’t here, we haven’t seen him in years” the Alpha told her sadly, confirming what she already knew. “What’s your name?”

 

“Lyla.”


	14. First Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and trees should never mix ...

First Flight

March 1991

Harry was bouncing from foot to foot with pent up excitement; he was feeling extremely pleased with himself right now and near enough nothing his Dad was telling him was sticking in his mind. He was too anxious to go and find his best friend. 

Severus had been so proud the moment his son had achieved the transformation; they hadn’t even been sure that it would ever be possible considering that Harry was already two-natured but Severus was determined to give his son every advantage in life that he could. 

Of course, like every ten year old, the first thing Harry had wanted to do was show his best friend, something that his Dad had strictly forbidden. There were some things that he didn’t mind the two boys sharing and talking about, he actually thought it was healthy for them to have each other. However, this was where he was drawing the line. Particularly while Harry was so inexperienced with his other form and the transformation process.

“You are not to try transforming without me present,” his Dad had told him firmly. This was one of those things that had gone in one ear and out of the other, too excited to pay much attention and too eager to show off to actually do as he was told. 

Harry had understood to some extent that it was a rule put in place due to his Dad’s constant worrying about his safety but he really wanted to show off to Clay about what he could do. His best friend would never actually believe him unless he saw it for himself. He’d do it just the once to prove that he could, his Dad need never know. 

“Do you understand me, Harry?” Severus asked as he watched his ten year old pull on his coat, ready to go outside. He had potions to work on, that were more volatile than usual, and Damon had agreed to watch Harry for him for the afternoon and have him sleep over tonight as well. 

“Course,” Harry replied, grinning. “Love you, Dad,” he said, grabbing his backpack off the ground and practically running for the front door, without even a glance over his shoulder. 

Severus only just managed to shout out “Love you too, behave yourself,” before he heard the front door to their home slam shut. He just had to hope that Harry had listened to him for once in his life. 

Even though the winter was coming to an end it was still freezing and Harry had to zip up his jacket as he walked the short distance to his best friend's house. The snow that had fallen through February and early March was now slush and puddles that leaked into his sneakers as he walked. 

His wand was strapped to the holster on his forearm, hidden out of sight from muggles but easily accessible if he needed it; of course, while he could use it relatively freely at Clay’s house, he would only use it on the street in an emergency. He took comfort in it being there as it meant as soon as he reached his destination he would be able to cast warming and drying charms to rid himself of the numbing sensation taking over his feet. 

Luckily it was only a few minutes' walk to get to his best friend’s house and he practically ran up the path to the front door, jumping over the largest puddle that blocked his way. He almost fell over once when he skidded, but laughed as he caught himself, crashing into the front door. Well that is one alternative to knocking, Harry thought with a giggle.

“Coming,” Damon’s voice called out from inside, and a moment later the door was pulled open, revealing his best friend’s father. “How on earth did you get so wet walking the two minutes from your house?” the man asked. “It isn’t even raining.”

“Puddles,” Harry said, grinning unrepentantly.

“Of course,” Damon said, stepping aside to let Harry into the house, casting warming and drying charms before the young boy even had a chance. “CLAYTON!” he called out.

As Damon shut the door, there was the sound of heavy footfall upstairs, followed by a door swinging open and hitting the wall, and then what could only be a small herd of hippogriffs coming down the stairs.

“Was that thud you knocking, Harry?” Clay asked, as he appeared in the hallway, having jumped the last four steps of the staircase.

Harry laughed. “I slipped, kind of crashed into the front door,” he explained.

“Graceful as ever, Harry,” Damon commented as he extracted the clearly hyper boy from his coat. Harry had already kicked off his shoes before his second arm was free and both boys took off up the stairs. “Behave,” he called after them, knowing it was probably a futile effort, but at least he felt he had tried.

“Yeah,” came the muffled response as Clayton’s bedroom door was slammed closed. Damon wondered vaguely if he should either insist the door stay open or at the very least confiscate their wands. He did have a few phone calls to make in regards to some of his holdings and he really didn’t want to be worrying about what the pre-teens were getting up to. 

Deciding against it, he headed for his study. Only this morning he and Clayton had been discussing trust and boundaries, he needed to enforce that. He would trust the two boys to keep their wands, if they broke that trust then he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. 

“I can do something really cool!” Harry declared the moment the bedroom door was shut. Clayton quickly cast a silencing charm, which Harry had taught him, upon the door; his Dad wouldn’t need or want to know what was going on up here. 

“What?” Clay asked, Harry’s enthusiasm making him excited to hear what it was. He knew that Harry’s Dad liked to teach him some pretty cool magic sometimes and, while he would never been into studying quite like Harry was, he was still always excited to see the new things his best friend learned.

“Open the window,” Harry instructed. “Go on, just trust me,” he said insistently when Clay looked at him like he was crazy.

“It is freezing out there,” he pointed out, as he did as Harry asked, undoing the latch. It was, as he said, really very cold as a gust of wind swept into the room. “You don’t have a coat even. You better not get pissy with me when you get cold.”

“You have heard of a warming charm, right, Clay?” Harry teased.

“Oh shut up and just show me before we freeze to death!” Clayton said, sticking his tongue out at his best friend who laughed at him. 

Concentrating really hard, determined to get it right, Harry squeezed his eyes tightly closed and focused all his energies on the transformation. It was harder than usual; he’d been practicing all morning and it had exhausted him but he was determined to show Clay what he could do. 

“Merlin’s balls,” Clay exclaimed in excitement, glad that he had cast the silencing charm on the door. “Wow!” 

Perched before him where Harry had just stood was a gorgeous falcon who, as Clay watched, hoped and jumped over to the window, on to the ledge. He didn’t even have a chance to stop him before Harry took flight, circling overhead briefly before landing in the tree closest to his bedroom window, transforming back into his teenage self. 

“That is awesome!” Clayton said, a wide grin on his face. 

“I know, right,” Harry called back with glee. 

“Now come back so I can shut this damn window, I’m freezing here!” 

Harry pinched his eyes shut and tried to focus again, but rather than the wash of magic he expected to feel he just felt dizzy, and he quickly opened his eyes and grabbed onto the trunk of the tree.

“Harry…” Clay grumbled as he rubbed his arms trying to stop shivering.

Once again the ten year old, making sure his footing was stable and pointedly not looking at the floor, tried to focus. He was starting to think that transforming back into a person at the top of a tree might not have been the smartest thing he had ever done.

“You can’t do it now, can you?” Clay said, as he leaned on the window sill, laughing at his friend.

“Can too!” Harry called back, going for his third attempted, but already knowing, that despite his protests, Clay was right. He was magically exhausted and now stuck up a tree.

“Can you at least climb down?” Clay asked as Harry surveyed the position he was stuck in. 

“Don’t think so,” Harry decided, braving a glance down. “Get your broom!” he called out to Clayton and at this command his best friend looked a little sheepish. 

“I can’t,” Clay admitted.

“Why not?” Harry questioned; Clay had had his broom yesterday, how could he have lost it in such a short time?

“Dad took it off me,” Clay said as if it was an everyday occurrence. Though lately it had been, ever since Clay and Harry had been upping the amount of pranks they’d been playing. 

“Why?” he asked, suddenly his curiosity overriding his concerns about his current location.

“Dad was getting a little tired of salty coffee in the mornings,” Clayton said with a shrug. 

“How am I meant to get down then?” Harry asked. They could always ask Damon for help if it came to it, but that was really going to be their final resort as he would certainly want an explanation. Not to mention that Harry was sure Damon would tell his Dad.

“Wait there, I’m coming!” Clayton said as he shut his bedroom window and considered for a moment how he was going to sneak past his Dad and get outside. However, this didn’t appear that it was going to cause a problem as when he opened his bedroom door he could distinctly head Damon arguing with someone over the phone. 

On his tiptoes and taking extra care to be as quiet as he could, Clayton stole down the stairs, heading for the back door with his wand in his hand. He hesitated when he heard his Dad stall, as if he had heard something or subconsciously knew that the two young boys were up to no good; Clay held his breath, not moving until he heard his Dad resume his yelling down the phone again. 

He grabbed his shoes in the hallway and quickly put them on before he pushed open the back door carefully, wincing as it squeaked a little but his Dad hadn’t even paused his ranting down the phone so Clay assumed he had gotten away with it. Making sure the back door was shut again, he headed around the side of the house to where the tree was in their garden.

“Not fallen down yet?” Clay teased as he stood at the base of the tree looking up at where his best friend was still perched. It really did look a lot higher up from down on the ground, than it had when he was up in his room.

“I’m not going to fall,” Harry insisted stubbornly, though admittedly he didn’t really know how he was going to get down without that happening, “I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction. I bet you wouldn’t have been able to stay up here this long.”

“I so would,” Clay argued back.

“Well we can’t find out because there is no way you could get this far up,” Harry challenged and even being too high up to see it he knew that Clay’s eyes would have lit up with the challenge of it. 

Clay was determined, it was just a tree after all, and so he hurried forward and pulled himself up onto the first branch. Once they were both up there then he could help Harry get down, and hopefully all before his Dad got off the phone and realised where they were. Clay was sure that they both would be in a lot of trouble if caught.

“You’re actually going to climb all the way up here?” Harry asked with amusement, he had just been teasing but he should have known better than to believe his best friend could resist such taunting. “ I’m going to laugh when you fall, Clay.”

“I am a better climber than you,” he called up as he pulled himself up on to the next branch.

“I didn’t climb up here,” Harry pointed out, watching as Clay continued to make his way carefully up the tree.

“I know, but you couldn’t even climb down,” Clay teased.

“I so could,” Harry said stubbornly, if he hadn’t been worried about letting go of his hold on the trunk then he would have folded his arms across his chest.

“Prove it,” Clayton challenged as he made sure he had a tight grip on the next branch, pulling himself up, further from the ground. 

“I’m enjoying the view,” Harry huffed, averagely impressed at the expertise with which his best friend was managing to climb up to him. 

“Sure you are,” Clay said, obviously not believing a word of it. He managed to pull himself up the last few branches until he was on one just a little lower than where Harry was sitting. “It is a pretty great view, though,” he agreed, looking down at how high he had climbed up, they were about in line with the bottom of the roof of the house and he was starting to realise why Harry had been a little hesitant about climbing back down.

“Great, now what?” Harry asked, watching the way Clay’s face flashed with momentary nervousness when he looked down.

“Now…” Clay said, giving himself a moment to think. Grinning as an idea came to him. “Now we levitate ourselves down.”

“That sounds awesome,” Harry said excitedly. “You first,” he added quickly, not wanting to be the one they experimented with.

“No way, you first. It was your magic trick that got us stuck up here in the first place,” Clayton argued back.

“Ah HA! So you admit you’re stuck too,” Harry said victorious, before the two of them looked at each other and burst out laughing. “Same time?” Harry suggested.

“What, so you levitate me and I levitate you?” Clay asked, as he seemed to think it over carefully.

“Yeah,” Harry said, as he pulled out his wand. “Wingardium Leviosa,” he called out, not waiting for his friend to have time to pull out his own wand.

“WHOA!” Clay cried out as his feet suddenly and quite unexpectedly left the branch he was standing on. He scrambled to try and get a grip on the trunk but it seemed that Harry was struggling to control him. “Lower, Harry, not higher,” he pointed out when he seemed to be heading up towards his best friend.

Harry had definitely underestimated how difficult it was to levitate a person; Clay was certainly a fair bit heavier than the feathers, cushions and even books, that he had practiced with and give how magically exhausted he already was there was nothing he could really do to stop his friend’s increasingly rapid drift towards him.

“Uh oh,” Harry said faintly just before Clay collided with him.

“Harry!!” Clay cried out in protest as the two of them clung to each other as the momentum pushed Harry out of the tree too and left the both floating in midair.

“Sorry….” Harry said, “Really really sorry…” he added as he struggled to keep them in midair and accidentally crashed them into one of the large branches.

And the spell broke; he couldn’t hold it any longer and all either of them knew was that they were falling, far too fast and it was only by sheer luck that they were missing most of the branches. 

Clay cried out in shock as his arm hit a large branch, forcing it out at a funny angle; he could hear Harry’s screams too. It felt like it took a strangely long time before he hit the ground though and when he did it sure hurt. His Dad was going to kill him, was the first thought through his head as he lay there on the damn grass. Well second thought, the first one was definitely ‘Ouch’.

“Harry?” Clay called out, “you okay?”

“I think so,” Harry called back, “pretty sure my leg is broken though and… yep, my arm too by the looks of it, on the plus side, it doesn’t hurt. You?”

“Good for you, because this REALLY hurts,” Clay told him. He too was pretty sure at least one of his legs was broken, and there was no doubt that his arm was in a bad way.

“Our Dads are going to kill us,” Harry said.

“Yep,” Clay agreed.

“Clayton! Harry!” Damon said as he hurried over to where the two teenagers were still lying on the ground. He had come running the moment he had heard their screams from the back garden. “Where are you hurt?” he asked desperately. He was sure he would be furious and want an explanation later, but right now he had to make sure they were okay.

“My leg and my arm,” Harry told him, and Damon could see that both looked obviously broken.

“Same,” Clay agreed, “though I think I might have broken both legs,” he added, turning his head to grin at his best friend, despite the pain.

“You always have to outdo me, don’t you?” Harry joked.

“This is NOT funny, Harry Prince,” Damon told him sternly. “I am going to have to go get Severus…”

“No!” Harry called out before he could stop himself. He really didn’t want his Dad to know, even if that was inevitable.

“Yes,” Damon retorted, “I can’t heal broken bones. Now, do I need to tell you both to not move until I get back?” he asked.

“No, Dad,” Clayton said.

“I don’t think we could if we wanted to,” Harry added with a cheeky grin.

“You’re Dad is going to be so mad,” Clay pointed out.

“Yep,” Harry agreed, completely resigned to his fate. He was pretty sure he would be spending the next week doing nothing but homework but there was one thing that might stop the situation getting any worse. “Clay…”

“Yeah?” he responded.

“Let’s not tell them how this happened,” Harry suggested.

“Good idea,” Clay agreed. “We take the secret to the grave.” 

Harry offered his non-broken arm out for Clay to shake on their agreement, which was fairly amusing when Clay’s one functioning arm was the opposite one to Harry’s meaning they couldn’t shake hands, something that made them both giggle hysterically but they managed a little fist bump instead. This was how Damon and Severus found their ten year old boys ten minutes later when they arrived to heal them. 

“You are in so much trouble, Harry Prince,” Severus stated, Harry just let out a groan; his Dad was really going to make him regret this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this little snippet from Harry and Clay's childhood. Don't forget to comment and let us know what you think.


	15. Cracks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More on Lyla and Micha's daughter.

Cracks

5th January 1996

Lyla dipped down before swooshing back up, a giggling Kalila in her arms. Her daughter was beautiful; her dark curls bouncing and her infectious laugh filling the clearing. It had been just over five years since Lyla had stumbled her way into this pack and they had allowed her to stay. She had been eight months pregnant at the time, dehydrated and malnourished, close to being dead. 

They had allowed her to stay, fed her, ensured that she was healthy and delivered her daughter less than a month later, on the thirty-first of January, ensuring that they both survived the labour. She owed this pack a lot and that was why she had stayed. To begin with she had missed Micha and had wanted to carry on her search for him but it quickly became apparent that she was never going to find him, especially not with a new born baby in tow, and not in the middle of winter either. Her best hope was to remain somewhere that was safe for their daughter. 

Tristan, her Alpha, had wanted her to stay and had even encouraged and helped when she had wanted to look for Micha. Lyla got the impression that there was more between the Alpha and her Micha than he would let on but she put it down to guilt for abandoning him and left it at that. It was only after Kalila had turned two that she had given up looking. She hadn’t wanted to but after so long with no leads and nothing to go on she had to realise that maybe he didn’t want to be found.

Now that her precious daughter was four, Kalila was really starting to take on her own little personality; she was a quiet child, but she never stopped watching and thinking, and she definitely had her father's mischievous cheekiness. She was really growing to have equal parts of her parent’s characteristics. Her dark hair echoed that of her mother, thick and black, but it was her eyes that gave away who her father was. They were intensely purple and undoubtedly belonged to Micha; Lyla loved her daughter’s eyes more than anything, she could stare into them endlessly if Kalila would only hold still long enough to allow it. 

The Alpha too was particularly fond of the cheeky little madam, who was always up to some form of mischief, just like her Daddy had once been. The way the little girl acted and behaved reminded Tristan of Micha in so many ways; he could happily just watch her for hours. The only member of the pack who Kalila didn’t have wrapped around her little finger was her step-father, Jared.

Soon after Lyla had given up in her search for Micha, the Beta wolf, Jared, had made his move and began to woo and court her; however, he had always made it clear that he had no interest in her little pup. Kalila wasn’t his and he resented the child a little, though he would never admit it; he would always tolerate her and never said a bad word about her either, but the feeling still lingered in his gut, languishing inside of him like a disease. 

“Leave the little one with the Alpha,” a strong male voice said as he wrapped his arms around Lyla from behind, as she placed Kalila down on her own two feet. “Let’s have some time just the two of us.” 

“Jared,” Lyla said, chastising her mate. “I can’t keep leaving her with Tristan, she’s my little girl.” She relaxed into the embrace, tilting her head to one side and allowing him to nuzzle into her neck. She loved him, she did but it was not a love that came close to what she had had with Micha, at least what she remembered of it. 

The almost five year old watched curiously. She had never called Jared ‘Daddy’; not that he wanted her to and Lyla didn't want that either. She told her daughter about Micha every night as a bedtime story and the little girl loved to listen to her. Kalila was fascinated about her Dad and who he had been. However, she rarely said a word. It wasn’t that she couldn’t speak, it was more that she just didn’t want to, preferring to observe and to think. 

“It’s always about her,” Jared said distastefully. “Come, let’s practice making one of our own,” he suggested as he nipped at her ear. Lyla had captured his heart, body and soul the moment that she had come to them in the arms of Tristan, weak and almost dead; however, whenever he looked at Kalila he wished that he had killed Micha when he had had the chance.

“Jared,” Lyla said softly, “I don’t want another, not yet,” she told him, just as she had told him several times before. She knew how desperate he was for pups of his own but it wasn’t something that she could give him, not yet; at least, not when Kalila was so young. She wanted to enjoy her daughter before having another child and she was hesitant because she had only fully accepted him a year ago, she felt that it was just too soon for talk about pups.

“Fine,” Jared growled, releasing his hold on his mate and storming off into the forest. Lyla sighed; she had said the wrong thing again, she was always doing that and now her mate was unhappy with her. She would have to go and talk to him, and she felt pretty annoyed that she was left with no choice but ask the Alpha to watch Kalila so she could do so. 

It was taking her a while to adjust to being with Jared. She hadn’t thought that she would ever be with anyone other than Micha; it had taken her a long while to accept that she probably would never see him again and that the only part of him she had was Kalila. She knew that Jared was a little jealous of the attention that was lavished upon the young girl; Kalila was one of the youngest in the pack and doted upon greatly. 

“Come on my precious girl, shall we see if Alpha Tristan will watch you while I talk to your Uncle Jared?” she asked her little one, who nodded. Kalila had always been a quite child, silence was a default setting for the young girl but even as she sat quietly you could see the cogs in her mind ticking over as she thought things through and planned out the next bit of trouble she could get herself into.

“He gone off in a strop again?” the six foot four blond Adonis of a man asked as Lyla placed Kalila down beside him. The little girl immediately toddled over to the Alpha male and deposited herself into his lap, he accepted her without complaint or question even though he had his own three and a half year old son, Timmy, there already. 

“Yes,” Lyla said with a sigh, “Do you mind, it’s just while I talk to him.” 

“Of course not,” Tristan replied. “You go ahead, I’m sure I can keep this little one out of trouble for a few moments.” 

As Lyla wandered off to find Jared, Tristan scooped up the almost five year old into his arms, holding her above his head and wiggling her about as she giggled as Timmy remained sat, curled in his lap. He looked up into her amethyst eyes that reminded him so much of Micha, the one who had got away because of his stupid mistake. He had little Kalila though, a small part of Micha that he could cherish and protect where he had failed so spectacularly with her father. 

“The way you look at her,” Thomas said with a sigh from beside him as he took Timmy from the Alpha male’s lap. He was under no illusion; he knew he was second best, that he would never hold Tristan’s heart even though they were mates and he had given the Alpha a son. Thomas loved Tristan and he was happy to be second best because Micha was never coming back. 

“Tommy…” Tristan said sadly, looking to his mate as he settled Kalila into his lap where she snuggled into him as if she belonged. He wished that he could really love Thomas as much as he deserved to be; his hair was the same sandy blonde as Micha’s but instead of sticking up in messy tufts it lay flat and obedient, his brown eyes lacking the laughter that Micha’s amethyst orbs had shown. He really missed Micha. 

“It’s okay, Tristan, I understand,” Thomas said with a small smile, picking up their son and standing to walk away. The Alpha male didn’t try and stop him from leaving; he felt so guilty for putting the man through that but he couldn’t change how he felt. Looking down at the child in his arms he was shocked to see that Kalila was staring at him intently in the way she always seemed to do, just watching. 

Sitting herself up a little, Kalila smiled sweetly at the Alpha male, reaching her hand up and pressing it to his cheek. “It’s okay to be sad, Alpha Tristan,” she said. It wasn’t often that she spoke at all but her voice was soft and gentle, nothing like what you would have expected of a girl her age. Then, shocking the Alpha, the young girl curled her arms around his neck and hugged him, her whispered words echoing in his ear. “Sometimes my mummy is sad too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this little snippet. More on Lyla to come. Do you like her and Kalila as characters, what about the others? Leave us a comment and let us know what you think.


	16. Chef Alpha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry tries to teach the Alpha how to cook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the date, this is set after Fragmented Soul's end game so by all means hunt for some clues and let us know what conclusions you've come to.

**Fragmented Soul -  The Furry Bits**

**Chef Alpha**

**Late June 1999**

 

The summer sun was burning down on the clearing in Oakhill Wood where the Greyback pack had made their home for more years than the Alpha could care to count. Despite everything that had happened, they were here and they had survived and, of course, they were happy and they were safe.Together they had made themselves a home and were thriving.

 

Some of the pack members had even had pups of their own; Damon was the next to be a father as he had impregnated his mate, Micha, who was now only a month shy of being ready to birth their first child. His belly protruded quite a way and was making the submissive rather uncomfortable and grouchy but Damon couldn’t help but think that his mood swings were endearing; though he was the only one.

 

The only thing that was missing in the Alpha’s eyes was his own little pup, though it wasn’t through lack of trying that they weren’t already expecting. Harry had just graduated from Hogwarts earlier in the month and the two of them had secretly been trying to conceive since just after New Year, knowing that if he fell pregnant early that Harry would still have time to finish school as he had wanted to. It was frustrating to Fenrir that so far they hadn’t been successful; he was not a patient man and his wolf was feeling rather unsettled that he had been unable to impregnate his mate.

 

The Alpha pair were yet again bickering; temperatures had reached record levels and no one was in the best of moods. Most of the pack had skulked off into the shade, taking the infant pups with them to keep them out of the sun. No one wanted to be dealing with sunburnt infants later in the evening. Harry and Fenrir were stood by the fire and, as per usual, the younger of the two was getting rather exasperated with his mate.

 

“What is the worst thing that could possibly happen if you just try?” Harry asked, stuck between frustration and amusement at the expense of his large oaf of a mate. Fenrir was not exactly happy about being stood before the roaring fire, it was the last place on earth that he wanted to be on such a scorching hot day, and being with his mate only made it slightly better. However, it was the pointedly exasperated look that Harry was giving him that was riling him up to the point of walking away.

 

Harry had always thought it felt somewhat wrong to leave all of the responsibility of preparing meals almost entirely on the women of the pack, with the only assistance coming from one or two of the men who had proven their skills; all he really wanted was for the Alpha to give it a go, for Fenrir to at least show willingness to try and learn. The cooking of three meals a day every day for a pack as large as theirs, which was still growing too, was no easy task, especially with three pups still in infancy to care for as well.

 

There were fourteen of them in total including the three infant pups; Micha and Damon’s baby, whenever he or she decided to make an appearance, would put the total numbers of their pack up to fifteen. Just keeping all the supplies at a good level, and ensuring that everyone was well cared for and fed, was keeping everyone busy.

 

“I might poison you all,” Fenrir suggested grumpily, as he folded muscle bound arms across his large chest. Anyone else, including all of the other pack members, would have been intimidated by the look that the Alpha was currently giving Harry. They would all have known what was good for them and, at the very least, backed off at once; or more than likely run in the opposite direction, terrified; but not Harry. He simply stood his ground and glared right back at the Alpha male without so much as flinching.

 

Harry would always be the first to admit that most of the pack member’s attempts at cooking were nothing short of disastrous, but at least they had tried; none of the resulting food had even caused any harm to them, except perhaps to their taste buds. Though he suspected that this was more due to the fact that as werewolves their stomachs were slightly more resilient to the bugs that caused food poisoning.

 

 Romy had always been of the opinion that it was laziness rather than incompetence that prevented the other pack members from producing a decent meal however one by one they had swiftly proved her wrong. If it came down to it, in an emergency, then they would all be able to scrounge up a meal that wouldn’t kill them and might at least be edible and not make them sick but there was no guarantee that it would taste any good.

 

“I am not suggesting we leave you to make it all by yourself,” Harry told him with exasperation, and a stern glare that clearly said no one would be that reckless with their meal. He wouldn’t have left it that much up to chance, not even with the recipe cards Callie had made in their attempt to teach the others how to prepare the food.

 

“We aren’t going to let you go that far wrong and I’ll be here with you to help, I promise,” Harry added, wrapping his arms around the Alpha’s neck, standing on his tip toes and pulling his mate down far enough that he was able to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Harry had always loved how much taller Fenrir was to him, it made kissing him wonderfully possessive, pulling him down low enough to claim him.

 

Fenrir growled low in his throat when Harry released his grip; as much as the Alpha always enjoyed his kisses from Harry, on this occasion it still made him want to sulk, stubbornly, that his little mate would use them to get his own way. Not that he usually denied Harry anything, even without the affectionate gestures they were so prone to sharing. Harry was far too cunning when it came to getting his own way, bending the large Alpha male to his will with ease.

 

“Alphas don’t cook,” Fenrir insisted unhappily in one last ditch attempt to worm his way out of it without upsetting his mate, but the expression on Harry face told him instantly that he had said the wrong thing and it had not even come close to working either.

 

The slightly smug smile that was appearing on his little mate’s face gave him a sinking feeling in his gut that he had probably accidentally backed himself into a corner on this issue now, one that he wasn’t about to get out of in a hurry. He never liked that look. He might have been the Alpha male, and the one person that the rest of the pack looked to and respected, but there was something about his mate that made him weak; and, what was worse, the entire pack knew it, though none of them would ever be stupid enough to voice it aloud.

 

“Oh, it’s beneath you, is it?” Harry challenged, with a far too innocent expression on his face, an eyebrow raised in amusement as he looked at his domineering mate. Harry was rather enjoying teasing his Alpha into helping with the cooking; he loved to poke and prod at all the right buttons until he got his own way.

 

“That isn’t what I said, little one,” the Alpha told him gruffly; glad they were having this conversation out of ear shot from the rest of the Pack. Those that were still in the clearing, braving the heat, were occupying themselves, making sure the heavily pregnant Micha was content, or as content as could be in the heat, ensuring that he was well shaded and had plenty of water to drink. Most of them however were caring for the pups just inside of the treeline where the trees provided plenty of shade for the youngsters who were of an age where they still needed constant supervision.

 

“Do you think you’re above it then? That you’re better than Callie, or Romy?” Harry went on. “Or better than me?” he asked, he had to force himself to keep a straight face as he wanted to laugh so badly at the horrified expression on the Alpha’s face. It was clear that Fenrir thought he had genuinely hurt Harry’s feelings by what he had said.

 

Fenrir let out a groan; he honestly didn’t feel that way; he was their Alpha and therefore their leader, the one to take the responsibility of the difficult decision making and keep them all safe but he didn’t think any one of them as less than himself. He cared very much for his Pack, they were everything to him, literally his family in every way other than blood, he would give everything for them, but he was an Alpha male and Alphas didn’t cook. It was the pack leader’s job to hunt, fight, defend, protect, provide... but cook... that was not part of it!

 

However, his little mate, as usual, was not going to give in without a small war it seemed. That was just Harry’s stubborn nature, and though he loved the younger werewolf very much, he was sure that this particular part of Harry’s personality, alone, was going to cut several years off his life span just due to all the stress it caused him on a day to day basis.

 

“Perhaps you think it is too feminine a job, then?” Harry asked, daring for the Alpha to be goaded into the argument but ensuring that he kept his tone sweet and innocent. He knew just how easy it would be to have the Alpha to put his foot in it and say the wrong thing. They had been together years now and Harry knew exactly what to say and how to act to get just what he wanted from his mate, most of the time without Fenrir even realising that he had lost the argument.

 

The Alpha didn’t really know quite what to say to that, he had nothing against men cooking so it wasn’t that exactly, but it did seem... softer almost. It just didn’t feel manly to him. He had never seen the appeal of learning, his own mother had never been much of a cook in the five years that he had known her and he had then spent the majority of his childhood in orphanages, scavenging for survival.

 

Besides that chopping vegetables and following recipes required a level of concentration and patience he just didn’t have. Callie had been very thoughtful with the cards she had written out with the clear and concise instructions but just looking at them from a distance seemed to put him in a foul mood. He had witnessed over the years just how much time and effort that some members of their pack put into preparing the meals and he didn’t think it was something that he would ever have the patience or skill to do.

 

“Or perhaps you think it’s something left for the weaker members of the pack to do?” Harry asked, almost daring Fenrir to comment. “Do you really believe cutting a few vegetables will mean you are less of a man?” Now he was full on challenging the larger man, trying desperately to get a reaction and enjoying himself far too much.

 

Fenrir could see the trap clear as day now; he couldn’t refuse to give this cooking lark a go no matter what he said or did, not without belittling the work that his little mate frequently undertook. Besides not wanting to upset or anger Harry, there was also the possibility of risking those most capable of cooking going on strike to prove just how important a job it was that they did. He certainly couldn’t say anything without risking it sounding as though he thought Harry was feminine for the assistance he gave the pack females with the cooking either.

 

“You know, I really like helping with the cooking,” Harry told him, a scowl on his face and his arms crossed over his chest defensively, glaring at his mate and lover, daring him to say anything and rather enjoying the fact that he was making his mate squirm a little.

 

“I know that,” Fenrir conceded, but still feeling uncomfortable with the idea of being involved in the process of cooking any of the packs meals and a little baffled about how Harry had managed to talk his way around him so easily... again. His little mate was getting rather good at it and often enough Fenrir didn’t even realise that it was happening until it was too late and he had to cave to his submissive mate’s will.

 

“Does this mean you think me less masculine?” Harry asked, and there was glimpse of hurt in his emerald eyes. “I know I’m all male, but maybe you would prefer finding yourself some pretty little female mate instead, if that’s what you’d prefer?” he suggested sadly, turning around to face away from the Alpha.

 

Harry was actually pretty confident about his place as the Alpha’s mate and equally sure that Fenrir liked him exactly as he was, masculinity and all; but he wasn’t above tricking his mate’s cooperation out of him. He let a small sly smile slip onto his lips, while Fenrir was unable to see his face. He knew he would get his way eventually; he always did.

 

“I want you, not some woman,” the Alpha growled in his ear as strong arms wrapped around his slender waist, pulling him back into Fenrir’s large and powerfully muscled chest and holding him there, placing soft kisses on his neck. The Alpha's lips grazed over the mating mark he had placed there three years previously, loving the intake of breath that this initiated from his little mate.

 

Harry schooled his face again into innocent insecurity before he looked up over his shoulder at the Alpha male, probably playing his part far too well. “Are you sure?” he asked, blinking slowly as he gave a small shy smile.

 

“I’m sure. You’re mine,” Fenrir insisted, his voice deep and possessive as his arms tightened around his little mate protectively, realising now just how much he had been manipulated and strangely enough he found that he didn’t mind too much. It was all part of Harry’s undeniable charm. “And stop playing innocent, little one. I am not fooled by your act.”

 

Harry’s trousers were suddenly feeling significantly more snug, as arousal swept through him at the tone of voice Fenrir was using; though Harry noted that it was a clearly mutual feeling, if the hard length pressing against the small of his back was anything to go by. To feel the growing erection there made butterflies stir in the pit of his stomach.

 

Even after all this time of being together Fenrir still gave him this feeling of excitement and anticipation that was undeniable. Taking one of the Alpha’s large hands, which was wrapped around his waist, Harry moved it lower to his erection, which he cupped in the large palm. Both of them suddenly glad that they had some privacy away from the rest of the pack and more particularly the young pups.

 

The warmth and pressure at his groin meant that Harry had to bite back a small groan of satisfaction before he was able to speak. “Then how about I show just how masculine I am, despite all the cooking I do?” Harry suggested teasingly.

 

“Good idea,” the Alpha agreed, lightly nipping at Harry’s neck with his teeth.

 

“Excellent,” Harry said, managing to turn around in Fenrir’s arms and grin up at him victoriously. “You help us with dinner later and then I promise we will do all sorts of very manly, masculine things with this,” he told his mate, as he ran one of his little hands across the fabric, which was straining over the evidence of his Alpha’s own arousal.

 

“You are very devious, little one,” Fenrir chastised. “I will help cook,” he agreed, “but we play first.” Fenrir saw his opportunity to worm his way out of the task he saw no point in partaking in; however, Harry wasn’t stupid and had foreseen the easy agreement to the plan.

 

Harry’s grin widened, aware that they both now had rather obvious problems that they would have to deal with before anything practical could be done, and he was definitely not opposed to relieving himself with the help of his mate, in fact he rather liked the idea however he saw right through his Alpha. “Deal,” he said, “but first, you’re going to go promise Callie that you will help with dinner, so you can’t back out of it later.”

 

Fenrir growled, as his last hope of escape was stolen from him; he would not make such a promise only to break it and Harry very well knew that. “Fine,” he growled. “Deal,” he agreed with gruff reluctance, sweeping Harry up into his arms and throwing him over his shoulder with surprising ease though he took great care in doing it.

 

“Oi!” Harry protested; his arms hitting lightly at the Alpha’s back, his legs flailing in a rather feeble and definitely futile attempt to get away. “Put me down, you great oaf, you need to be more careful with me” he said, but he was laughing at the impatience of his mate. Fenrir manoeuvred Harry so that he was carrying him a little more delicately, giving him a questioning look.

 

Harry bit at his bottom lip, he hadn’t meant to say anything just yet, he had wanted it to be his little secret for a while longer. He knew that the moment the Alpha found out the man would be intolerable, if Damon’s actions had been anything to go by when they had found out about Micha. He didn’t want to be fussed over too early because he knew that it would get rather tiring after a while.

 

“Callie!” the Alpha yelled across the clearing, turning the whole Pack’s attention to him. “I will help with dinner when we return!” The Alpha didn’t wait for any kind of response from her before he was already heading off towards the woods to find them some privacy, ensuring that they went in the opposite direction to where the pups were playing. “Care to tell me why I need to be careful with you, little one?”

 

The last thing Harry saw as they left the clearing was the amused faces, and waving hands, of this pack brothers and sisters; oh he was so going to get teased for this later he was sure. Good job he knew it would be worth it; both the sex and then finally getting to see the Alpha chopping vegetables... and then perhaps more sex afterwards too.

 

“Umm…” Harry began nervously, chewing on his lower lip as he debated how to tell his mate what he had discovered only two mornings previously. Callie had helped him confirm that he was right and then been sworn to secrecy. She understood just why Harry wanted to keep it a secret for a little while and had seen no harm in not telling anyone his secret.

 

“Little one?” Fenrir questioned with concern, worried that something was wrong with his mate as they headed deeper into the forest where they were guaranteed privacy.

 

“I’m not telling you anything until you promise that you’ll still fuck me senseless and show me just how masculine you think I am!” Harry said pointedly, still being held in his mate’s arms. Fenrir glared at his mate but knew that it would get him nowhere, it never did. Reluctantly he nodded his head and muttered his promise.

 

Taking a deep breath, looking into his mates stunning golden eyes, arms wrapped around Fenrir’s neck he smiled at him, knowing how happy this news was going to make his Alpha. They had been trying for months now and it had finally paid off. “I’m pregnant,” Harry told him quietly.

 

The Alpha male just gaped at him, for once in his life he was lost for words. “You’re what?” Fenrir asked in shock, wanting to make sure that he had heard his mate right. He released his grip around his mate, allowing Harry to stand on his own two feet; however, the submissive kept his arms wrapped around his Alpha’s neck, keeping their bodies pressed together.

 

“Pregnant,” Harry said again, confirming it for his shocked mate and this time Fenrir barely waited for him to finish the word before rough lips were smashed against his. It was a desperately passionate kiss that held so much joy at what Fenrir had just been told. He had been waiting to hear the word from his mate for so long and now that it was confirmed he couldn’t hold back just how happy he was that he was finally going to have a pup or pups of his own.

 

 Grinning as they withdrew from their embrace, Harry snaked his hand between them, cupping the still throbbing erection in the Alpha’s jeans. Fenrir frowned a little, worried about what affect having sex would have on the little baby, his baby, growing inside of his mate, not wanting to hurt it.

 

His hesitation and frown however caused Harry glare at him. “You promised,” he said pointedly. This was exactly why he had made the Alpha promise. Damon had been the same with Micha; it had taken months for Damon to finally be convinced that as long as he wasn’t too rough, which he never was, then sex wasn’t going to do his and Micha’s baby any damage. Harry was horny and he wasn’t willing to wait months; he wanted his mate right now.

 

Fenrir gave a short bark like laugh, kissing his mate again. “I know little one,” he said, “and I fully intend on keeping my promises.” Harry smiled up at his mate; his life had never been all sunshine and rainbows, at times it had been hellish, but there were definitely moments, like this one, when things felt pretty damn near perfect.

 

As a pack they had been through loss, pain and grief but here they were, together and a family, stronger and more united than ever before. Harry was a month away from his eighteenth birthday and he was finally going to give his mate what he had always wanted, pups of their own. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this Furry Bit. Don't forget to leave a comment and let us know what you think.


	17. Fatherhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenrir's first night as a Daddy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the chapter and there is a COMPETITION at the end for you to enter to read the notes carefully.

Fragmented Soul: The Furry Bits

 

Fatherhood

 

January 3rd 2000

 

It was the early hours of the morning and the entire pack were sleeping peacefully; all except for Fenrir, who was sat up watching over his mate and new born child. Harry had given birth late evening the day before and was now having a well-deserved rest, their tiny baby huddled in a cradle of blankets beside him. Fenrir couldn’t take his eyes of either of them, he just couldn’t believe how lucky he was. He had a gorgeous mate, and a healthy little boy too. As he watched he saw that the bundle of blankets that contained his son start to move, a small whimpering sound coming from within.

 

He could see that the tiny child was fighting valiantly to get free from the swaddling blanket that Harry had so carefully wrapped around him to keep him warm. It was early January and the weather was bitterly cold; though the snow had not touched them in their well warded clearing, the sharp sting of winter was truly upon them.

 

Moving quickly and quietly, the Alpha wolf manoeuvred himself over to his son and mate; he didn’t want to wake Harry, who had had his stomach cut into only hours earlier and needed the rest before he would be back up to his full strength. He had been given pain potion and dreamless sleep but Fenrir was still aware that if their child started to cry then he would probably wake.

 

With greater care than he had ever taken with anything else in his life, Fenrir picked up the tiny baby, his and Harry’s baby, cradling him in his arms. He moved towards where Damon slept with Micha and their own four and a half month old in his arms. Gently Fenrir gave his best friend a nudge with his foot; he didn’t want everyone awake at this hour, especially not the four young pups.

 

Damon groaned softly at the disruption of his sleep and forced his eyes open as he looked up over his shoulder, his brain managing to register who is was standing over him. “What is it, my Alpha?” he asked groggily as he carefully sat up; he was mindful not to jostle his still slumbering mate and baby, whom he had affectionately nicknamed Podge, much to Micha’s dismay.

 

“I didn’t want to wake Harry,” the Alpha wolf grunted softly. He hated to admit that he needed help, however, he honestly had no clue where to start. It frustrated him no end to know that he couldn’t even care for his own son. He had never had any contact with baby’s before, not even the other youngsters of the pack because they had never been his.

 

“I’ll make up a bottle for you,” Damon said with a soft smile. He understood instantly what Fenrir was asking without actually asking at all. Decades of translating Fenrir grunts and blunt statements into their full meaning had not been for nothing and there were times like this that he could read his best friend like a book.

 

The Alpha nodded his head in thanks, grateful, more than ever, for his best friend as he went to take a seat close to the fire so that they’d be warm and far enough away from the others that the rest of the pack wouldn’t be woken. He sat himself on one of the tree trunks that he had turned into a bench for them not long after Harry had first gone off to Hogwarts. They had made a wonderful addition to their clearing and were proving to be especially useful now there were five pups to take care of too.

 

Terrified of hurting the tiny baby, the Alpha wolf laid the bundle of blankets that contained his son on his thighs, staring down at him in amazement. He still found it hard to believe that he and Harry had created something so perfectly beautiful together, their little munchkin. Harry had suggested that their son should be called 'little one' now, given that he was so tiny, but Fenrir had been quick to assure his mate that he would always be his little one. 'But he is such a little munchkin,' Harry had argued back, and the name had stuck so far.

 

Harry had wrapped their little boy up well, to protect his tiny body against the cold. As Fenrir loosened the swaddling blankets around him, he saw that little white scratch mittens covered his hands, a thick fleecy bodysuit in powder blue covered his body and knowing Harry there was at least two more layers beneath that too. Wispy tufts of black baby hair were sticky out from beneath the thick cotton hat on his head; their son had seemingly taken Harry’s unruly mop of hair, much to Fenrir’s amusement.

 

Large golden eyes were looking up at him, his boy’s brow furrowed in a frown which only made the Alpha wolf want to laugh; though, he thought proudly, his son's scowl was perhaps already more than a match for Harry's attempts. He couldn't quite believe how tiny their baby was, only just too big to fit in one of Fenrir’s large hands; he had of course held him several times since his birth but he was still terrified of crushing him.

 

Damon silently approached his Alpha, who seemed so absorbed in the infant on his lap that he almost didn’t want to disturb him. He knelt down, shaking the bottle of powdered milk thoroughly to ensure that it was well and truly mixed together before testing it on his wrist; he had applied a warming charm on it before coming over and as he was fairly tired he didn’t want to have risk having over done it and injure the Alpha’s son. Fenrir gave the bottle a look of utter disdain as it was handed to him, hating that he didn’t know what he was doing.

 

“Perhaps I should...” Damon started to suggest but Fenrir cut him off with a low growl of annoyance.

 

“No,” the Alpha snapped in a hushed tone so not to scare his child or to wake the others who were still sleeping just a short distance away. “Pass it here,” he demanded. The Alpha wolf adjusted the newborn to the crook of his arm, accepting the bottle from Damon, determined to care for his son himself.

 

“Gently does it,” Damon said quietly as Fenrir teased the teat into his tiny son’s mouth. The new born, without fuss, opened his mouth and accepted the bottle, instantly beginning to suckle on it. The Alpha beamed proudly at his son, watching him guzzle down his formula.

 

“He’s certainly got an appetite,” Damon said, watching the tiny baby, his heart swelling with love. The tiny baby was practically his grandson, seeing as he saw Harry as his son and this was his best friend's child too. There was no question of how precious this little boy was to him and to see Fenrir holding the baby warmed his heart.

 

He took a deep breath and relished the scent of his child, embedding it firmly in his memory. “He’s going to be a big strong dominant wolf,” Fenrir said, his voice bursting with love and pride.

 

“You can tell that?” Damon asked curiously.

 

“It’s subtle but it’s there,” Fenrir said, his eyes never straying from the tiny baby in his arms, amazed at how beautiful his son was. He could have sat there and watched his son feed for hours.

 

“You should be proud,” Damon said. “Of them both,” he added, glancing over at where Harry was still sleeping peacefully.

 

“I am,” Fenrir said vaguely, still transfixed by the sight of his amazing little boy. He was struggling a little to get his head around him being his and Harry's, but he loved the tiny child in his arms more than anything and he already knew there was nothing he wouldn't do for him.

 

“Make sure you burp him before you settle him down again,” Damon said, smiling as he got to his feet, intending to go back to his own mate and child. “Just put him over your shoulder and rub at his back until he burps, even if he’s asleep,” he instructed.

 

“Thank you,” Fenrir said, his voice soft as his son’s eyes began to droop. Damon tore his eyes away from the Alpha male, turning to head back to his Micha and baby Podge. Fenrir truly meant what he said when he thanked his best friend, he wasn’t sure that he could have survived the night without waking Harry if it hadn’t have been for Damon.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed that we didn’t mention the names of the babies asides from their nicknames Podge and Munchkin. Well, that is because it’s COMPETITION TIME!! Those that bother to read the Furry Bits are also getting a head start because this won’t be posted until chapter 23 in the main fic. (A little reward for being dedicated readers).
> 
> The competition is as follows. The first person to guess the parentage (so both ‘mum’ and dad) of all five of the babies listed below will get a chapter emailed to them a whole week early and have that chapter dedicated to them when it is posted for everyone else to read. All we ask is that you don’t ruin if for everyone else with spoilers. The competition will be open ended until someone gets them all right and we’ll announce the winner on the facebook page as well as getting into contact with you somehow.
> 
> The five children are as follows:
> 
> 1 - Tobias
> 
> 2 - Charlie
> 
> 3 – Ceylon (Father only)
> 
> 4- Violetta
> 
> 5 - Leah


	18. Spinning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violetta and Ceylon have a competition.

Fragmented Soul: The Furry Bits

 

Spinning

 

July 2002

 

“Watch this, Cey,” Violetta said, her dark brown eyes twinkling as she ran up to the red haired boy; a bright smile lighting up her beautiful face. She threw her arms wide, tilting her head backwards and began to turn on the spot. The summer sun was glinting off her jet black hair, the neat ringlets flying in all different directions as she began to spin faster.

 

“I can do better than that,” Ceylon said, crossing his arms over his chest. He was determined that whatever his pack sister could do, he could do better. They were the same age, just because she was two months older didn’t mean that she was better, he was a boy that meant he was better by default.

 

Ceylon, copying Violetta, threw his arms out and started to spin, mimicking his pack sister. Violet stopped briefly to watch him, trying to steady herself as she laughed before starting to spin in the opposite direction to what she had been. Ceylon almost fell over when he stopped, everything was spinning so badly.

 

“You two will make yourselves sick,” Harry said with slight disapproval as he removed the red fire truck that Toby and Charlie had been fighting over causing both of them to start to cry. Harry sighed, the two boys were always fighting over toys and the whole pack had discovered that it was easier to just remove the problem rather than settle the arguments between the two, even if that meant tears.

 

“Let them have their fun,” Clayton said with amusement, watching the two five year olds with amusement. “Wasn’t that long ago when that was us,” he reminded his friend.

 

Harry looked at Clayton in amusement, “We’re twenty-two, not ten Clay, or did you forget?”

 

“Yeah and you act thirty, if not older,” Clayton teased. “Must be the influence of that old man you have for a mate,” he hypothesised. Taking aim, Harry threw the red fire truck he had been holding at his best friend’s head. Laughing Clay caught it, as Harry knew that he would.

 

Harry snorted in amusement, turning his attention back to the two, almost three year old boys that were still crying, though admittedly half-heartedly now as the two of them were now watching Harry and Clay with curious eyes.

 

“That’s your Alpha you’re talking about there, Clay,” Romy pointed out casually from where she was sat playing some form of complicated clapping game with Leah that seemed to have a rather odious sing-song rhyme attached to it.

 

“I dare you to say that somewhere where he can hear you,” Harry challenged. So far he was the only one who dared call Fenrir anything other than his name or Alpha to his face. He doubted Clay would have the guts to call Fenrir an old man in close proximity to the man; he also didn’t have a head hard enough to withstand the clip round the ear he would no doubt get for such a comment.

 

Clayton laughed, but decided to change the subject before Harry actually talked him into saying something that stupid to Fenrir. If anyone had the power to talk him into something ridiculously stupid then it was his best friend. “Bet you couldn’t do that now,” Clay said, pointing at where Violet and Ceylon were both spinning again.

 

“Oh I bet I could,” Harry said meeting the challenge head on. He might have been a mum now but that didn’t mean he was any wiser for it; he still allowed himself to be goaded into silly, childhood challenges by Clayton. “Romy, watch the boys for me,” Harry said decisively and Romy looked up vaguely from the hand clapping game she had been teaching Leah and nodded her head with an accompanying roll of her eyes.

 

Harry grinned as Clayton got to his feet and came to join him, the two of them sharing a look that spoke of the challenge laid down. Making sure there was enough distance between them and all of the young pups so that they wouldn’t risk bumping into one of them. Harry put his arms out to the sides and started spinning just like Ceylon and Violetta; a few seconds later Clayton was joining in too.

 

“They’re like children,” Leah said to Romy, looking at the four spinning members of their pack incredulously. She was almost whole year older than Violetta and Ceylon and much preferred not to be included in their childish behaviour; she was a big girl now.

 

Romy couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes they are, Leah, very childish,” she agreed, though she had long ago given up on any hope that Harry and Clay might one day learn to behave like adults.

 

Harry was somewhat glad that the majority of the pack was off hunting or at least caught up enough in what they were doing to not be watching their antics. He was sure that the older pack members would not approve of how they were acting, though Micha might have been fairly amused and might even have joined in with them given half the chance. 

 

Given how dizzy he was getting already; Harry was fairly sure that he was going to fall over soon if he didn’t stop, but he was determined to outlast Clayton at the very least. His resolve to achieve this was somewhat weakened though, when he heard a familiar sequel of delight coming from the two toddlers still stood close to Romy. He had stopped what he was doing, the ground swaying beneath his feet, looking over to see that both Toby and Charlie were doing their level best to copy them.

 

“Woo, go Charlie, go Toby!” Clayton cheered, having also stopped spinning to watch the two young pup’s rather wobbly attempt at spinning, if you could call it that. Charlie was the only one of the two toddlers that was managing to actually go in circles whereas Toby seemed to keep getting distracted and changing directions. There may only have been four and a half months between them but developmentally it was a huge gap.

 

“This might just be the cutest thing they have ever done,” Harry said proudly, “and that’s really saying something.” He really loved these pups so very much, whether they were biologically his or not; he would protect and care for them all. He was the Alpha’s mate after all and they were all a family as well as a pack, it was part of his role within the pack to love and care for them all, whether related by blood or not.

 

“Yeah, but I’m so not the one cleaning them up when Charlie makes himself sick,” Clayton said, watching on as the little boy seemed to really get the hang of the spinning and began picking up the pace.

 

Toby, however, couldn’t quite maintain his balance and fell over on to his bum, his nappy cushioning the blow; he sat on the floor for a moment laughing madly before he tried to get back up again. But between his laughter and dizziness the little toddler just couldn’t find his feet; every time he got upright again, or something close to it, he would fall back down, laughing even harder, ending up rolling around on his back in the grass.  Charlie meanwhile was concentrating hard, changing directions occasionally, but still going.

 

“YAY, I WIN!” Violetta yelled suddenly, and they turned to look at the two older pups; Ceylon sitting on the floor looking extremely cross.

 

“Doesn’t count as winning if you cheat, Violet,” Ceylon told her firmly as he crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at his pack sister venomously.

 

“I didn’t cheat,” Violetta said, crossing her arms over her chest, copying the defensive stance that Ceylon had taken and looking down her nose at him.

 

“You pushed me,” Ceylon insisted, as he brushed himself off and got back to his feet, watching her with disapproval.

 

“Nuh uh,” she retorted, shaking her head, “not my fault if you were spinning too close to me.”

 

“Enough of that you two, or you’ll be on dish duty with Callie,” Harry told them firmly, before turning back to the two toddlers. “You win, Charlie,” he said, stopping the little boys spinning and scooping him up into his arms before Clayton’s prediction of being sick came true. “As for you, little man,” he said as he swept the still laughing Toby up into his arms as well, carrying them both rather expertly, “you need to calm down before you make yourself sick just by laughing.”

 

“Charlie wins? I think not,” Clayton said firmly, as he started spinning again, the pups all laughing at him, even the toddlers in Harry’s arms.

 

“Go faster!” Violetta ordered and Clay, of course, obliged.

 

“This is going to end badly,” Harry told Romy, as he handed Toby over so that he was carrying only Charlie, given how heavy the toddlers were starting to get. Romy just nodded her agreement, accepting Tobias into her arms as she watched Clayton spinning as fast as he could. Leah leaned into her side, watching on dubiously as Clayton carried on.

 

Charlie was clapping happily where he was sat, resting on Harry’s hip, Ceylon was cheering him on, and Violetta cried out repeated demands for him to spin ever faster; but then he stopped rather suddenly and Harry shook his head at his best friend when he saw how green in the face Clayton looked. They all paused for a moment, going very quiet and waiting to see what would happen next. This silent question was answered as Clay suddenly took off at a run for the edge of the clearing, a definite wobble from side to side in his stride as evidence of his dizziness.

 

Harry adjusted Charlie on his hip as the toddler strained to be put down so that he could have an attempt at outdoing Clay. The two of them were as thick as thieves and it was the opinion of the entire pack that Clayton was a rather bad influence on little Charlie. “I think he might not be feeling so great,” Harry said with amusement, as the pups watched with expressions of confusion as Clayton rushed off.

 

“He really shouldn’t have eaten those brownies for breakfast,” Romy said with exasperation; Leah nodded her fervent agreement but Toby just giggled, rather enjoying the entertainment.

 

Violetta and Ceylon were clearly very amused too, if their laughter was any guide. “Come on, let’s go see if he was actually sick,” Violet said excitedly, grabbing Ceylon by the hand and dragging him off in the direction that Clay had gone.

 

“Don’t leave the clearing,” Harry called after them; he could see Clay from where he was, so he wasn’t too worried but with those two it was always worth reiterating. They might not have been a conventional family, but they made it work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our competition is still running! So far no-one has correctly guessed all five, despite a huge number of guesses; we were serious when we said think outside the box. It might help you to know that one of the babies was bitten to become a werewolf, not born as one. 
> 
> Guess the parentage (so both ‘mum’ and dad) of all five of the babies listed below:  
> 1 – Tobias  
> 2 – Charlie  
> 3 – Ceylon (father only)  
> 4 – Violetta  
> 5 - Leah


	19. Impurity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius Malfoy has a past....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONGRATULATIONS to our competition winners. Crazedblueeyez and HudHud9 who both posted the right answer within seconds of each other. 
> 
> For those not on facebook (where we have posted a family tree of the pack) the answer was: 
> 
> Tobias - Harry and Fenrir  
> Charlie - Micha and Damon  
> Ceylon - Lukas (the mother has yet to be introduced into the story)  
> Violetta - Bellatrix and Tom Riddle/Voldemort  
> Leah - Callie and Jenson
> 
> Thank you to everyone who entered, you are all awesome. As a runners up prize for everyone we have this Furry Bit today, a new chapter (23 - Fear) for Fragmented Soul tomorrow (20th), a new Furry bit (Jam Tarts) on the 22nd and the the Christmas chapter (24- Christmas with the pack) will be posted on Christmas Eve. Bicky and I will then take a two week break before any more chapters go up.

Fragmented Soul: The Furry Bits

 

Impurity

 

August 1979

 

He knew that he shouldn’t be there, it was the eve of his wedding after all. In the morning he would be doing what was expected him as the only Malfoy heir and marrying the lovely Narcissa Black, whom his parents had arranged to be his wife. She was gorgeous, a pure blood and was of course the perfect bride for him. There was only one problem; he didn’t love her.

 

Lucius Malfoy’s heart lay with another, one that he could never be permitted to love publically. Chloe Wilshaw was a half-blood and therefore could never be seen as a suitable wife for Lucius as any child they produced would not be considered pure-blood. This would, of course, be entirely unacceptable for the future heir to the Malfoy name, estate and fortune. Lucius understood the duty he had to his family, he had been raised knowing his obligations and he knew that he couldn’t ever marry Chloe, no matter his feelings for her.

 

Narcissa would be the perfect bride, he was certain of that much; she had been raised to play the role of wife, as much as he had been raised as the family heir. He had no place to complain about his situation; it wasn’t as though he had got stuck with her slightly deranged older sister, who was nowhere near as fair or as easy to put up with. If he had been betrothed to Bellatrix then he might have put up more of a fight; however, Narcissa he would be able to tolerate.

 

Despite knowing all of this, he was still stood on Chloe’s doorstep, wanting to see her one last time. He was sure that it would be the last time because, even if they ran into each other accidentally, he would never acknowledge her. After tonight they would be nothing more than strangers and over time he would forget and so would she. At least they could hope that this was the case, if it wasn’t then they were both doomed to misery.

 

When she opened the door to him, he smiled; to lay eyes on her and to see her smile was beyond perfection. She had gorgeously kissable olive skin, which he knew every single inch of, and long dark brown hair that fell in delicate curls down over her shoulders. Her eyes were a stunning chocolate brown that looked at him with such love and affection that they made his heart melt. Tonight they held a glimmer of excitement within them that he hoped was simply at the anticipation of seeing him.

 

“I thought you might not be coming,” she said, stepping aside and allowing him into her modest home. Her family were not poor by any standards but the five bedroom home was nowhere close to the grandeur and the twenty plus bedrooms that Malfoy Manor could boast. However, he did not love her for her money.

 

“I almost didn’t,” he told her regretfully. It was the truth, he had almost not been able to come but in the end he could not stay away. It felt wrong almost, visiting another woman on the eve of his wedding to another. There was no way that he couldn’t see her tonight though, he had to say goodbye to her.

 

“I’m glad you came,” she said, closing the front door and taking her lover by the hand. As was tradition she took him straight up the stairs to her bedroom. It wasn’t that she didn’t want anyone to see them, there was no one in the house but the house elves tonight, but their relationship did not exist outside of the bedroom, not really. The two of them had never dated in the traditional way, never having been seen in public before.

 

Chloe understood this and never once complained. She had been born the dirty little secret of a pure-blood wizard from France, who had paid off her muggle-born mother to take her and leave. She knew the ins and outs of the way pureblood families worked and couldn’t begrudge Lucius for his family's prejudice to anyone that was anything less than a pure-blood; she didn't blame him but she couldn't help but hate traditions of their society that was taking her love, just like it stole her father.

 

“I thought you might not want to see me,” he told her as they ascended the stairs; it had been this thought that had almost made him turn around and go home several times as he had made his way over to her home. He had genuinely been scared that she would turn him away at the door but he was grateful that she had not.

 

“I always want to see you, Lucius,” she said as they reached the familiar bedroom door. It wasn’t her room, it was a guest bedroom and the one they always used. They had both known that their romance would never last, that no matter what happened between them it would end when the Malfoy’s found a bride for their only son. It was for this reason that they had tried to keep things as impersonal as it was possible to be. Lucius had never once set foot in the room that Chloe called her own.

 

“Even tonight, of all nights?” he queried as they let themselves inside the bedroom.

 

Everything was how they had had left it the last time they had been here; the only things that ever changed here were the sheets, which were always freshly cleaned whenever they arrived.  The mahogany four poster bed stood in the centre of the large room, taking pride of place. Deep red love seat, empty chest of drawers, bare dressing table, the walls bare of pictures so that there were never any witnesses to the goings on within these four walls. It was their haven.

 

“Even tonight,” she replied with certainty, as she shut and locked the door, sealing them inside. This was the one place that Lucius felt comfortable to be himself. Outside of this room he was a Malfoy first and foremost; he had to keep up the appearances of such and maintain the family honour. Here, however, he was free to let his heart dictate his head and love the beautiful woman that stood before him now.

 

He closed the distance between them, his hands taking hold of her hips, pulling her into him and claiming her lips in a passionately desperate kiss. Her arms curled around him, reaching up to run through the long blond hair. Chloe released it from its clasp, allowing it to fall around them as he leaned down to deepen the kiss. There was no better feeling in the world to her, than kissing him.

 

Both of them were prepared for this, they knew that this was the last time that they would ever be together. Chloe didn’t think that she would ever be able to let him go; she had been horrified when, three months ago, he had told her that they would have to say goodbye because he was now betrothed.

 

That was when she had come up with a plan to keep him and tonight she had something to tell him, something that would surely change his mind. She had been so worried that it wouldn’t happen or that if it did that it would be too late; it almost was. She just had to pray that it was enough to stop Lucius going through with the wedding.

 

“I have something to tell you,” she said as their kiss broke, looking up into his grey gaze and smiling; the secret she had, captured in the twinkle in her deep brown eyes. Lucius looked at his lover questioningly, his hand coming up to stroke at one of the curls of her hair. “I’m pregnant.”

 

Lucius froze. “You’re…” he managed to say, in a state of shock.

 

“Pregnant,” she said again, a little taken aback that he wasn’t smiling or jumping for joy. She remembered her own ecstasy upon the discovery only the day before; but Chloe had underestimated his loyalty, and sense of duty, to his family. She would never understand how deep that ran.

 

“Is it mine?” he asked; he had to check. It had never been said that they were exclusive in their relationship, such as it was. Not that he had taken any other lovers apart from her but he couldn’t be certain that the same was true for Chloe.

 

“Of course it’s yours,” she responded, hurt that he would accuse her of sleeping around. She looked at him now as if she wasn’t sure who he was. Chloe had expected for Lucius to be pleased, overjoyed, to offer to call off the wedding and marry her instead.

 

“Why, Chloe, why have you done this?” he asked, trying to understand the reason behind this. They had always been so careful, he couldn’t comprehend why she might have done this when she knew that he was to be married to someone else and that they could never be together. Now he had the pain of leaving behind not only the woman he loved but his child as well.

 

“So we could be together,” she told him desperately, trying to explain and not liking the edge of anger in his voice as he demanded answers from her.

 

“We can never be together,” Lucius hissed. “You knew that this would never be permanent.”

 

“I thought…” Chloe began, floundering a little, she hadn’t expected for this reaction from her lover. She had been sure that he would have been overjoyed but anger and confusion were two reactions she hadn’t been expecting at all.

 

“You thought what?” Lucius demanded, suddenly feeling anger surging through him. She had no idea how much he wanted this with her and that was what made him so enraged, knowing that despite the fact she was carrying his baby they could still never be together and that he would never know the child, his own flesh and blood.

 

“I thought we could be together, that you’d…” Chloe said, her voice almost breaking as tears welled up in her eyes. She had to take a step backwards and put some distance between the two of them, unable to believe that Lucius, her Lucius was reacting so badly to this.

 

“That I’d what? Cancel the wedding?” Lucius asked angrily. “You knew that was never going to happen.”

 

“But I’m having your baby, if it’s a boy, it’ll be your heir,” she said desperately. She wanted to believe that he would drop everything for her and the baby. Chloe hadn’t even wanted to be a mother but she was willing to do just about anything to keep Lucius Malfoy, to become a Malfoy herself by marriage; it would give her everything she should have been entitled to at birth if her father had accepted her.

 

“That’s not possible!” Lucius snarled, unable to believe that Chloe had been so foolish. This changed nothing except causing them both more pain. “Even if I wasn’t marrying Narcissa in the morning that child would never be the Malfoy heir, boy or not!”

 

“Lucius… please, I love you; the three of us, we can be together,” Chloe said, fear overwhelming her. She had done this for him, for them, so that they could be together. This wasn’t how she thought that this evening was going to end up.

 

“We can never be together,” Lucius said harshly. He hadn’t realised that Chloe was this delusional. He had thought that they had both been on the same page when it came to their relationship, that she understood that he could never be with her. His family came first and he would never risk being disowned and losing his inheritance for the sake of a woman.

 

“But the baby…” Chloe said, her hand going to rest upon her abdomen. Her heart was racing as panic set in. The thought of being alone, a single mother, rejected by the man that she was deeply and desperately in love with when she was carrying his baby was too much for her to cope with.

 

“Is of no concern to me,” Lucius said, shutting himself down. He did love her and he wanted her and the baby so much it hurt but he couldn’t do it. When faced with the choice between Chloe and his unborn baby, and the Malfoy family along with his inheritance, he knew what he had to do. It was the most painful choice he had ever had to make but he knew that he could never turn his back on his family. Being a Malfoy was his birth right. He would never be able to give the child growing in her belly any kind of life.

 

“I love you, Lucius,” Chloe told him, her tone was pleading and fearful. She didn’t want to do this alone. The thought of raising a baby she didn’t even want, a child that had already failed to do what it was created for, filled her with dread and sadness.

 

Lucius looked at her, trying not to show any hint of the sadness and regret that he was feeling as he shut down his heart to all emotion. If he let it in now then he wouldn’t be able to walk away and that was something that he knew he had to do. Every possibility ran through his mind, trying to figure out if there was any other way around this but he knew there wasn’t. This was goodbye.

 

“I won’t see you again, Chloe,” Lucius told her, his voice cold and detached. His words stung her as if he had physically slapped her. It felt as if he had put a knife through her heart it hurt so badly. “You mean nothing to me and that abomination in your womb means even less to me than you do.” He had to be certain she would not attempt to return to him for any reason; she could ruin everything.

 

“You can’t mean that,” Chloe said, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at Lucius, trying to figure out where the kind and loving man she knew had gone. “Don’t do this, please.”

 

“There was never any other way,” he told her, reaching up and tying his hair back once more, finalising his words. “Goodbye, Chloe.”

 

He turned on his heel and headed for the door. She stood, frozen in horror, unable to believe that Lucius was actually walking away from her and their baby. Unlocking the door he hesitated, the love he held for her stopping him momentarily. He really had to force himself to open the door and walk away, shutting himself down emotionally as he did.

 

As she watched him retreat she fell to her knees, her breathing coming out it short sharp bursts as endless tears flowed down her cheeks. Her heart had just walked out the door, and fear and bitterness had taken its place in her chest. She was alone, her and her unborn baby.

 

FGHP

 

The next day Lucius Malfoy did his duty, as he had always known he would, and married Narcissa Black in a beautiful ceremony at Malfoy Manor. It was only eight months later, on the fifth June, that Narcissa gave birth to their son and heir, Draco Lucius Malfoy. As he cradled his son in his arms, he didn't have a single thought to spare for his lost love.

 

Chloe had , unbeknownst to Lucius, birthed a son just thirteen days previously. A boy she named after the father that had abandoned her because that was all she could see in the boy; he was the embodiment of betrayal and abandonment at the hands of the man she loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this, don't forget to comment and let us know what you think ....


	20. Family Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Family Tree posted in celebration of Crazzedblueeyes and HudHud9 correctly guessing the parentage of the five pups.


	21. Jam Tarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another cute Harry and Severus scene.

Fragmented Soul: The Furry Bits

 

Jam Tarts

 

November 1984

 

Severus was really not much of a cook, but his four year old son was a curious little boy who wanted to know about everything and always wanted to learn; Severus couldn’t exactly discourage this and had been trying his level best to accommodate Harry’s keen thirst for knowledge. He had been slightly dubious, however, when the four year old had expressed an interest in learning how to cook. Severus had resisted these interests for a little while, seeing as the boy was still only four, but Harry's pleas, as he looked up at him with those big green eyes, wore him down rather quicker than he would ever admit and he had finally purchased a muggle cookbook designed specifically for children.

 

"Daddy, look," Harry said from where he was standing on a chair, as he finished adding jam to the last of the small pastry dishes they had made together. Severus had supervised the making of the pastry, not wanting to leave the four year old unsupervised with pastry cutters; once the cases had been made however, he had allowed Harry the freedom to add the jam by himself. The cases themselves had taken them far longer than they should have done as it was, and the kitchen had required more cleaning spells, than it normally would have had too, but they were now almost ready to put their small tray of nine jam tarts in the oven.

 

"Good job, Harry," Severus said proudly as he looked up from the potions journal he had been reading while sat at the kitchen table, though admittedly he should maybe have been paying more attention to the jam wielding child in his care. Usually he would have been, especially considering it involved Harry attempting to cook, but he had so much work to do that he hadn’t been able to just drop it all no matter how much he wanted to.

 

He cringed as he took in the rather large amount of sticky fruit conserve that seemed to have found its way onto Harry's face, hands and clothes, there was even some in his hair; it was enough to make him very glad for magic, which he used to vanish the worst of it off the small child, though they would still have to wash Harry's hair thoroughly that evening. What he couldn’t understand, was how Harry had managed to get the stuff in places that jam should never have been in the first place. Then again the small child was always surprising him in one form or another.

 

"Cook them now, please," Harry said, picking up the tray with both hands; he used his elbows on the work surface to support the relatively heavy tray, as he held it out for his father who hurriedly dropped his wand on to the counter to take the tray.

 

Severus quickly took the jam tarts before all their hard work and effort ended up upside down and ruined on the floor and they had to start all over again. "What numbers does it say here, Harry?" he asked, pointing to where the recipe instructed on what temperature to cook at; he had been teaching Harry numbers and he was rather good at recognising them now. Severus took great pride in his son being rather advanced for his age; no muggle school would have taken the time to teach him this well.

 

"One," Harry said, reading the first number above his Daddy's finger. "Eight?" he asked hesitantly, looking up at his father to make sure, only turning back to the book when Severus gave him a nod of approval. "Zero!" he said excitedly, beaming with pride, throwing his arms up in the air in celebration as he read the final digit.

 

Severus gave a snort of amusement at his son's enthusiasm, as he went to put the tarts on to cook at one hundred and eighty degrees. When he returned to Harry, his son seemed to be attempting to read the rest of the recipe, even though the four year old had only really learned how to read numbers and a couple of letters so far.

 

"There's a one and a five," Harry told his father emphatically as he pointed to the page.

 

Severus peered over Harry's shoulder, not surprised that his son was entirely correct. "That tells us how long they have to be cooked for," he explained, and, picking up his wand from where he had dropped it he cast a simple charm that would make a sound to notify them when fifteen minutes had passed. He knew that Harry would be heartbroken if they ended up over cooked or burnt; Severus wasn’t going to take any chances.

 

"Down, please," Harry said, as he snapped the cookbook closed, holding his hands stretched out, towards his father, waiting only long enough for Severus to take hold of them, giving him the support he needed to bend his knees and  jump off the chair. He landed on the kitchen floor on his feet with a thump before turning to look up at his Dad imploringly. "Book, please," he requested, pointing up at the closed recipe book still on the work surface.

 

Severus, with an amused look, obliged his young son, glad that he had taught Harry such good manners, and that today, at least, Harry was remembering to use them. He smiled fondly as he watched his son as the four year old made his way across the kitchen. The little boy then climbed up onto one of the chairs at the small kitchen table, before kneeling there and opening the book again, his finger trailing over the pages as he pretended to read it. Severus was amazed at how keen Harry was to study the book in such detail when he couldn’t even read the words yet.

 

"Daddy," Harry said, his voice sounding mildly annoyed and an adorable frown of disapproval on his face. "You need to sit and read like me; we're waiting," he demanded with a finger pointed at the potions journal that had been left on the table, open at the page Severus had been reading.

 

"I suppose we are, Harry," Severus agreed with a fond smile at the small boy. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather I help you read that?" he asked, as picked up the journal he had been reading earlier and went to take a seat next to his son. He certainly had no objections to Harry's attempts to read by himself but knew his ability well enough to know that he would not currently get very far without some assistance.

 

"No, I'm reading this one," Harry said, covering up the book with his arms when his father tried to lean over and see. "You read that one," he instructed, pointing at the journal again.

 

Severus met Harry’s stern gaze for a moment before picking up his journal and turning to the page he had been reading before. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Harry watching him cautiously; and after a few seconds his son smiled in approval and turned back to the recipe book, his small digit tracing the lines of words across the page.

 

“No, we have to wait,” Harry said in a small whisper that had Severus looking up from his reading curiously. His son was not looking at him however, but rather peering down at the floor next to his chair.

 

“Harry?” Severus asked, feeling mildly concerned and certainly confused. “Who are you talking to?” he queried gently; he had long since learned that pressing Harry for answers too firmly was the surest way to ensure his silence or a full blown rebellious tantrum where he still wouldn’t get the answers he wanted.

 

“Wolfie,” he said, turning to look at his father with exasperation, as though Severus should have known something quite so obvious. “Wolfie wants to eat the Jam Tarts now, but I told him we have to wait because they aren’t cooked and we have to wait until the wand goes BING,” Harry explained, the last word emphasised with a wave of his arms and followed by a little giggle, that he hid behind his hands.

 

“Wolfie…?” Severus questioned slowly. He had heard of children having imaginary friends, mostly from the child raising books he had purchased soon after finding himself as Harry’s sole carer; but it was something that he had assumed he would not have to deal with, wrongly apparently, and it seemed foolish to have ever thought his bright little boy wouldn’t put his wonderful imagination to such a use.

 

“Yeah, he is THIS big,” Harry said stretching his arms as wide as they could go, “and he is a wolf, but he isn’t like me; he can’t be a person. He is a wolf all the time, like you is a person all the time,” he explained, smiling happily at his father who was still watching him in surprise.

 

Of all the animals Harry could have chosen it had to be a wolf. Severus sighed fondly at his son. "Is that so? And what is Wolfie doing now?" he asked curiously. It was certainly going to take some getting used to talking about something quite so fanciful as Harry’s imaginary friend and he found himself vaguely wondering exactly how long this ‘Wolfie’ was going to be a part of their lives.

 

"He's sitting next to me by the floor,” Harry explained happily, leaning on the table and peering towards the oven impatiently. “But he really, REALLY wants jam tarts," he added, turning back to his father with a hopeful expression.

 

"Will Wolfie maybe have some fruit before he has a jam tart?" Severus asked, trying to hide his amusement as Harry looked to the vacant space on the floor and then seemed to think about it.

 

"Nope" the four year old said decisively. "Just the jam tarts please, Daddy." Harry shut the cookbook he had been reading and pushed it away; apparently he was done with it now and his eyes seemed to going from Severus’ wand on the work surface to his still cooking treats in the oven.

 

"Well even if Wolfie doesn't want a piece of fruit, perhaps you should have one before you have the sweets," Severus suggested, pushing the fruit bowl along the table in Harry’s direction.  

 

Harry eye’s shifted towards the large bowl that was filled with an assortment of fruits, before turning his father. "Buuuuuuut Daddy... I don't want fruit, it's icky," he whined, making Severus laugh as the little boy pouted.

 

"You know the rules, Harry," Severus told him firmly.

 

The potions master then watched in fascination as Harry turned to the empty space on the floor and began to whisper. After a few moments of this he turned back to his father and with a stubbornly determined look on his face.

 

" Wolfie says nope" Harry said again, as if that was the end of the matter.

 

“Harry, this is very simple; you will not be eating any jam tarts until you have eaten a piece of fruit,” Severus reiterated. It was a rule he had set down early, in fact the moment he had learnt that his son had a sweet tooth, and it was one he was sticking to, no matter how stubborn his son was going to be about it today. Getting Harry to eat anything that wasn’t loaded with sugar was an uphill struggle every day.

 

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at Wolfie for a second before turning back to his Daddy. “Wolfie says you’re a meanie head,” Harry said grumpily, before leaning over the table and snatching up a banana.

 

“Do you need me to start peeling it, Harry?” Severus asked, completely ignoring the four year olds attempt at insulting him. He was just glad that his son had cooperated relatively easily rather than throwing a temper tantrum, as he had been known to over the request to eat fruit and vegetables before.

 

“I can do it,” Harry insisted stubbornly, holding the banana out of his father’s reach when Severus went to help him remove the skin.

 

As proud as Severus was over his son finding his independence, he often thought he could have done it without the attitude mixed in. He watched on as his four year old son, who couldn’t quite break the end off, managed to split the banana skin and peel it. It was hardly the tidiest or most efficient attempt at peeling a banana that Severus had ever seen in his lifetime but Harry had been right, he could do it.

 

He was just opening his mouth to praise his son for this achievement when Harry, having discarded the peel on to the table, placed the peeled fruit in front of him, raising his hand up above it, and smashing it down. Severus watched on, frozen in surprise at Harry’s unexpected act of rebellion that had come from nowhere. The piece of fruit had become squished under his little hand, resulting in a delightful look to spread across the young boys face. Pleased with himself and what he had done, Harry took a second swing, with his other hand, the first one staying in the mashed up mess, playing with it between his little fingers and spreading it around the table, making the mess seem far worse.

 

“Harry Prince!” Severus said in outrage, finally finding his voice. “No!” he added as he managed to grab Harry’s wrist gently in one hand before the third strike could land. “That is completely unacceptable, Harry. Do you understand me?” he demanded, catching Harry’s other wrist when the four year old went to start mashing the fruit further with his other hand.

 

“But it’s for Wolfie,” Harry whimpered, his voice wavering as a tantrum threatened, and he bounced up and down on his knees, trying to pull his wrists free from Severus’ loose but unrelenting grip.

 

“There was no reason for this mess, Harry,” Severus pointed out to his son, as he crouched down to his level. “If you wanted to mash the banana you should have asked me and we could have put it in a bowl and used a fork.”

 

“But this was better, Daddy,” Harry said crossly, with a scowl on his face that Severus knew all too well had been learned from him.

 

“No, Harry, it was not,” he retorted, trying to keep a lid on his temper. At that moment the alert spell he had set for the jam tarts went off and Severus silently cursed the timing.

 

“Daddy, Daddy,” Harry said excitedly, bouncing on his knees. “Jam tarts, Daddy.”

 

“I am aware,” Severus told him sternly. “Now, stay here and…”

 

“Quick, Daddy, before they go all black like when you normally cook,” Harry interrupted, sounding actually quite upset at the prospect; it was something which Severus understood himself, given the time and effort that had gone into them but he could not allow Harry’s behaviour to go unchecked. The little boy was cheeky enough without believing he could get away with acting up like this.

 

“They will be fine for a few seconds, Harry,” Severus explained, keeping his voice stern and ignoring the insult to his cooking skills that had improved slightly over the years but still left much to be desired.

 

He picked his son up from where the little boy was kneeling and sat the four year old on the chair being carefully to avoid the rather messy, banana coated hands. Harry however seemed to be determined to get up to go rescue his jam tarts from the oven but Severus kept sitting him back down and after three attempts his son finally seemed ready to listen.

 

“Stay here and do not touch that banana again, unless it is to eat it,” he told the young boy sternly, and Harry gave him a grumpy nod, glowering rather cutely at his Dad. One thing that Severus had discovered that when Harry was angry or grumpy he looked even more adorably cute than ever and he truly hoped he never grew out of that.

 

Realising it was the best he was going to get for the moment, Severus picked up his wand, removing the jam tarts from the oven with a slight flick of his wrist. He levitated them across onto the work surface, which he had charmed to be heat resistant after some of the burn marks that had been caused by his early attempts at cooking.

 

“Harry…” Severus said in a warning tone when he saw that his son was getting up off his chair to come and check on his precious creations. The four year old was practically itching to jump up and Severus could see that he was warring with himself about whether or not to directly disobey instructions and check on his jam tarts or not.

 

“Me and Wolfie want to see them please, Daddy,” Harry pleaded, looking longingly over to the counter where his creations were sat with steam coming off them as they cooled. Severus, however, wasn't having any of it. He was going to make it very clear that the behaviour Harry had displayed was not going to be taken lightly.

 

“They are fine, Harry,” Severus informed him, he didn’t want Harry having a full blown temper tantrum, in fact that was the last thing he needed. He did need to make it very clear, however, what he was going to accept and what he wasn’t. “Before you look at your jam tarts, I think we need to talk about your behaviour.”

 

“Sorry, Daddy, sorry, sorry, sorry,” Harry said quickly and clearly not really meaning it. “I said it; so can I see now?”

 

“I am glad you said sorry, Harry,” Severus told him, though he could have laughed at how his son had apologised. He walked back over to his son and crouched in front of him to make eye contact; apologising and not meaning it just to get what you wanted was a decidedly Slytherin move and, not for the first time, he found himself wondering at just how much Harry was starting to take after him. “But I want you to tell me what you are sorry for,” he added.

 

The four year old considered this for a moment, clearly thinking very hard. “Making a mess?” Harry asked quietly, looking down at the floor. He seemed to be a little ashamed of what he had done but where Harry was concerned Severus couldn’t be sure, sometimes he thought that the little boy was far too smart for his own good.

 

“And…” Severus prompted, wanting to make sure that Harry understood what he had done wrong. Apologising was all very well and good but Severus needed to make sure that his son knew what he was apologising for and wasn’t just saying it because he thought that was what Severus wanted to hear.

 

Fidgeting and clearly getting rather frustrated, Harry thought very hard, just wanting desperately to check on his jam tarts. “Not doing what I was told?” Harry tried, but his attention was not on his father but on the baked treats that were on the side across the kitchen. “The jam tarts, Daddy, please,” he requested eagerly.

 

“I’m not sure you deserve any,” Severus told him with a frown. He disliked punishing Harry, he seemed far too sweet and innocent after the temper tantrums and spouts of rebellion and Severus did so struggle to reprimand the young boy. The punishments never seemed to fit the crime, he always let Harry off lightly.

 

 “Please, Daddy, I’m really sorry,” Harry said earnestly and though Severus was sure that his son was only sorry that he wasn’t being allowed his jam tarts rather than feeling genuinely apologetic for his behaviour.

 

 “After you eat some fruit,” he told the four year old with a sigh as Harry gazed at him pleadingly with bright green eyes. He always struggled to say no to him when he gave that look. However even if there was no punishment for what he had done, Severus was determined that he would still get Harry to eat some fruit. On that front he wasn’t going to allow the four year old to stand victorious.

 

 “Do I have to eat that banana?” Harry asked, looking at the half mashed banana in disgust; it really didn’t look very tasty now. Most of it he would have to lick off the table if he were forced to eat it.

 

 “No,” Snape said, with a scowl of disapproval at the mess on their kitchen table. “You will select another piece of fruit and eat it like the good boy I know you can be when you want to.”

 

 “Okay, Daddy,” Harry agreed, “apple, please.” he asked sweetly. It always amazed Severus that Harry could go from a little nightmare to the sweetest child that a father could ask for in no time at all.

 

 “You’ll wash your hands first, young man,” Severus instructed sternly, looking at the bits of banana that still covered his son’s hands. He didn’t fancy the house stinking of banana for the next week as he located every sticky banana fingerprint and washed it off the walls.

 

Harry slid off the chair and made his way over to the sink. Severus followed, wrapping an arm around his son’s waist and lifting him up, to help him clean off the mashed banana, scrubbing them thoroughly with soap and warm water twice until Severus was happy that the little boy was banana free.

 

Only once the four year olds hands were clean and dry, did Severus place Harry back on his feet and go to retrieve an apple from the fruit bowl. “Now would you like me to cut it up for you?” he asked.

 

Harry shook his head, “No, thank you, Daddy,” he replied as Severus handed the apple over to his son. He watched on for a moment as Harry then obediently took a small bite from it. At least that would keep Harry busy for a little while, which would give him time to clean up the mess Harry made of their table with the banana and then extract the Jam Tarts from their tray to cool.

 

FGHP

 

It had taken Harry a little while to finish his apple, but once he had done so, Severus had allowed him to eat just one of the jam tarts; of course Harry had thought it terribly unfair that he wasn’t allowed to eat all nine in one go, but Severus had been quite clear on the matter and placed the remaining eight away in a box for eating later. Personally he wasn’t a fan of sugary treats in any form and therefore wouldn’t be eating any himself.

 

They’d since eaten dinner and washed up; Harry had had his bath and was now in his pyjamas; Severus was enjoying his evening reading, while Harry played. The young boy would occasionally disappear off up to his room to fetch another toy and bringing it back down to the living room to play with but other than that the evening was calm and as it should be. It was how they spent most of their evenings; Severus really did enjoy watching his little boy play, even with the addition of him sharing hushed whispers with Wolfie.

 

It was during one of these trips out of the room, however, that Harry came to the conclusion that it was dark outside now and they had eaten dinner, which had had too many vegetables for his liking, so in his mind it definitely qualified as later on; and that was when his Dad had promised that he could have another of his yummy jam tarts.  

 

Harry peered carefully around the doorframe of the living room, and could see his Daddy was still reading, completely engrossed in his new potions book that he had ordered weeks ago. For a moment Harry considered asking him permission to have another jam tart, but he didn’t want to disturb his Daddy from what he was doing and he did know where the jam tarts were; besides, he was sure that his Daddy would only say no and ruin everything. He would just go get one himself and then be back before his Daddy noticed anything.

 

Giggling a little to himself with excitement he headed into the kitchen on tiptoe. Though he quickly realised that it was too dark and, looking at the light switch, he frowned, as it was too high and out of his reach. He hadn’t told his Daddy that he could sometimes make things happen when he really wanted them to; of course he hadn’t been allowed a wand yet but he had discovered that he could still use magic to make things happen regardless.

 

He focused on what he wanted. He needed to be able to see; he couldn’t reach the light switch but he could feel his little body thrumming with magic. Suddenly, with no warning, several little balls of light appeared, hovering in the room, illuminating it; he grinned up at them happily as they lit the room.

 

Now that he could see Harry was confronted with another problem. He glared up at the kitchen counter and at how high it was not to mention how out of reach the box of jam tarts were. Thinking things through very carefully, he looked around the room for a solution. Deciding that he would use a chair, like he had for cooking earlier, he pushed it across the room with great effort; it was easy to climb up and reach the box then.

 

 “Jam Tarts, Wolfie,” he told his invisible friend as he pulled the lid off the box. “They’re all sticky,” he said happily as he prodded the top of one with a finger and giggled happily again.

 

He picked one up and bit into it; they really were very yummy and he didn’t understand why his Daddy hadn’t wanted to eat one earlier. Harry had just finished eating it, and was in the process of reaching for a second, when a very stern voice exclaimed, "Harry Prince!" and made him jump; apparently that was enough to break his magical lights, because it suddenly went dark.

 

 “What on earth do you think you are doing?” Severus demanded from the doorway to the kitchen, as he flicked the light switch. He had thought that his son had been absent for too long and come to find out what sort of trouble he was into now; he supposed he shouldn’t have been too surprised to catch his son with a hand in the cookie jar, so to speak. Though he had been rather impressed by the magic the four year old had clearly used to illuminate the room.

 

 “Wolfie ate one,” Harry told his father quickly, as he turned on the chair to smile at Severus innocently. And there it was again, little devil child to sweet, innocent angel in seconds, it was enough to make Severus want to pull his hair out in frustration. He loved his little boy, he really did, but sometimes the James in him really was too much to handle.

 

 “Really?” Severus asked sceptically, trying his very best not to show how amused he was by his son’s obvious lie. If he didn’t look on the funny side of the situations that Harry got himself into and the things that he said then he would have lost the last threads of his sanity a long time ago. “Did Wolfie also smear crumbs and jam on your face, Harry?” he queried as he crossed the kitchen towards his son.

 

Harry quickly covered up his mouth with his little hands in an attempt to hide the rather damning evidence and nodded, his little laughs were barely smothered behind the sticky fingers.

 

 “Harry,” Severus said with a sigh, “what am I going to do with you?”

 

 “Help me eat the rest of the jam tarts?” Harry suggested hopefully and Severus couldn’t help but laugh. He honestly didn’t know whether to be more proud or frustrated with his son, but Harry really was going to be the death of him, he was sure. Even if Harry had a very James streak in him, he still loved the boy dearly, despite him pushing boundaries and causing trouble at every turn.

 

 “I don’t think so, young man,” Severus told him. “I think it’s time to wash your face, brush your teeth and go to bed.”

 

“But…” Harry went to say but stopped when he saw the look that his father was giving him.

 

“Before you say no, you should count yourself lucky that I’m not throwing the rest of your jam tarts away,” he told the four year old in a tone that made it quite clear that he was in no mood to be argued with. “Now, if you do as you’re told without any fuss then I’ll read you a bedtime story. It’s up to you, Harry.”

 

Harry looked to be debating this for a moment, he even appeared to be consulting with Wolfie, however, he seemed to come to the conclusion that Severus’ terms were acceptable. He nodded, climbing down from his chair, checking behind him to make sure Wolfie was following him before charging out of the door. Severus watched him go before sealing up the tin of jam tarts, putting them away in the cupboard and then following in his son’s wake just as a loud crash sounded from upstairs.

 

 “It wasn’t me, it was Wolfie!” He heard his son shout down the stairs causing him to grimace, trudging wearily up the stairs to see what had had been broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the update and don't forget to leave a comment. :-D


	22. Dwagon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into the future of the Greyback pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE WONDERFUL AND TALENTED STARLIGHT MASSACRE!!! (You're pre-birthday, birthday present!!) 
> 
> This is just for her because she wanted lots of cute babies.

Fragmented Soul: The Furry Bits

 

Dwagon

 

Christmas Day 2001

 

A shrill, distressed cry cut across the clearing, echoing around the forest. The source of the sound coming from the large playpen in the centre of the Greyback pack’s woodland home. This was where Tobias and Charlie were supposed to be playing nicely with one another while the preparations for Christmas dinner were dealt with by the majority of the adults.

 

The older children, Leah, Violet and Ceylon were doing their utmost to be helpful but in truth were rather complicating the whole process. None of the adults had the heart to tell them this however, as they were all so excited. Mostly everyone was just glad that Christmas only happened once a year.

 

The majority of dominant males in the pack had all gone out before the crack of dawn that morning and brought back two wild boars, having decided that one would simply not be enough to feed all sixteen of them. It had become something of a Christmas tradition for them to feast on this particularly illusive beast over the festive season as a special treat. It was a tradition that had been started for Harry’s first Christmas with the pack and it was one that the Alpha male wasn’t about to let die; not that he would ever admit to such sentimentality.

 

“Mine, Char Char,” Tobias’ tearful voice cried out loudly, he was one week away from his second birthday and his possessive streak, a genetic predisposition from his father had kicked in big time. Currently his little arms were reaching out towards the already two year old Charlie, who had four months on Tobias and was holding a dark purple stuffed dragon just out of Toby’s reach.

 

“No,” Charlie returned sharply, glaring at his friend and cuddling the toy to his chest to protect it from Tobias’ grasp, as the younger of the two reached forward in his attempts to grab at the toy. “I want.”  

 

“Mine, mine, mine,” Toby said as he banged little fists angrily onto the ground, scowling cutely at his friend. It was another trait that Tobias had inherited from the Alpha.

 

“No,” Charlie said again, sticking his tongue out at Toby. “My dwagon.”

 

By this point the argument between the two toddlers had drawn the attention of their parents, who were so used to the two little boys bickering that they had given them a moment to see if they could work it out between themselves before intervening. Harry and Micha had both agreed that as long as neither resorted to violence then they shouldn’t be overly mollycoddled when it came to their adorable disagreements.

 

Still scowling, Toby picked up a little toy car that had been sat beside him and threw it as hard as his little arm could manage at Charlie. Seeing as the two of them were not that far apart it would have been a direct hit too, that was if it wasn’t for Harry’s quick reflexes. As it was the hard plastic toy that would have hit the older of the two toddlers in the head was caught just in time.  

 

“No, Tobias, you are not to throw things,” Harry told his almost two year old son sternly, dropping the toy car into the nearby toy box out of the way, lest it be turned into a projectile again. He wasn’t exactly impressed that his son had resorted to violence so quickly; it was most certainly the influence of his father, though Harry tended to think that about all of his son’s bad traits.

 

“Dwagon, Mummy, dwagon,” Toby said, as more tears fell down his chubby cheeks, his little hands reaching out for the purple toy still held tightly in Charlie’s arms out of his reach.

 

“Mine,” Charlie said, holding the toy tighter to his little body, determinedly keeping it away from Tobias whose cheeks were red, flushed and tear stained.

 

“Charles Reid Danes, that is not yours,” Micha said firmly, coming over to see if Harry was in need of any backup; their sons were known for being rather a handful, especially when together. They appeared to be a rather bad influence on one another. They tended to be both each other’s best friend and worst enemy, and what they were could change from one minute to the next without any warning.

 

Both Harry and Micha knew that their children took after their fathers in a big way and it made them want to roll their eyes in exasperation every time they clashed. However, they were the first to admit that the stubbornness was probably inherited from both sides.

 

“But I want it, Mummy,” Charlie said stubbornly, looking over his shoulder at his mother with a determined expression. He had turned his back to Micha, Harry and Tobias in an attempt to stop them from being able to take the toy dragon away.

 

“That is Toby’s, right?” Micha asked Harry; he was fairly sure that he had seen the little boy unwrap it earlier that day in the carnage that had been present giving with the young children. There had honestly been so many toys given to the children throughout the day that it was difficult to keep track of what belonged to who. Micha really didn’t want to take the stuffed purple dragon toy from Charlie if he was mistaken.

 

“Yeah,” Harry confirmed as he reached into the playpen and picked up his crying son, hoisting him into his arms and sitting him on his hip. “It was from…” Harry hesitated, not wanting to say the name, “Clay’s brother,” he whispered softly; there was no way he was going to risk saying the actual name of the gift giver, that would have been small disaster. Said brother was something of a hit with the older pups and they couldn’t mention him by name without a full scale riot and demands to go and visit.

 

“Charlie, look at me,” Micha said sternly, waiting for his son to turn around, but apparently the two year old was feeling particularly stubborn and rebellious today and didn’t even flinch when he was asked to move. Realising that he was going to have to take a more hands on approach, Micha climbed into the playpen and picked up the little boy who instantly started to wiggle and protest at being held.

 

“Are you going to give the dragon back to Toby, or am I going to have to take it from you?” Micha asked as he climbed back out of the playpen with his son in his arms, wanting to give the boy a final chance to co-operate.

 

“No, Mummy, no, no, no,” Charlie insisted, still trying to get free from his mother’s grasp whilst holding desperately tightly onto Toby’s favourite Christmas present.

 

It was clear to Micha that his son was not going to willingly return the toy anytime soon, so shifting Charlie into one arm, he freed the dragon from his son’s firm grip and passed it back to Harry and Tobias. The moment that the dragon was out of his grip, Charlie opened his mouth, took a deep breath and screamed, throwing his body backwards so violently in protest, that Micha was only just able to get his other arm back around him to prevent the little boy from throwing himself to the floor.

 

“Charlie, no,” Micha cried out in fear for his son; his heart hammering in his chest as he adjusted his grip so as to hold onto the two year old more firmly and prevent Charlie from being able to try such a thing again. He had never known the little boy to kick up so much fuss over anything like this before; Charlie had, of course, had tantrums before, as any two year old would, but this was on another level altogether.

 

Toby had quickly accepted the purple dragon back into his arms, snuggling into it and using the purple fluff to dry the tears from his cheeks. “Fank you,” he said quietly through some soft sniffling, when Harry gave him an expectant look, which turned into a soft smile at his son’s words as he placed a kiss on the little boy's temple.

 

“Toby, Daddy cuddles,” the toddler said softly as he snuggled into Harry, clutching tightly at the dragon and throwing a stern glare at Charlie, who was still have a full blown, screaming fit in Micha’s arms.

 

“Sure thing, munchkin,” Harry agreed,“You okay Micha?” Harry asked, looking to his friend, who nodded. He was sympathetic towards his fellow submissive as Micha tried to deal with the tantruming Charlie. “Let’s go find, Daddy.”

 

Harry winced as Charlie’s screams and crying were kicked up another notch when Micha adamantly refused to bend to the toddler’s demands, and rightly so. Harry turned and headed over towards his mate, knowing that it would be easier for Micha to deal with the little boy's screaming fit without an audience to spur Charlie on.

 

“Damon, I think Micha could use a second pair of hands,” Harry said, but Damon had witnessed what was happening and was already getting to his feet, cleaning his hands of blood from the boar with a quick spell and starting to head over to where his mate and son were currently doing battle with one another.

 

“On my way,” he said, though not sounding entirely enthusiastic at the prospect of attempting to handle the full blown tantrum that his son was having. “I honestly don’t know where that boy gets it from,” Damon said with a sigh.

 

Callie laughed in amusement at her brothers words. “Yes, brother dear, because neither you nor Micha ever lose your temper or have overly dramatic reactions to anything, ever,” she said sarcastically with a smile to her big brother. “Besides, he is two, he is supposed to make you suffer at least a little bit,” she added, remembering how even calm, quiet Leah had had her moments when she had been around that age.

 

“Thanks, sis,” Damon said dryly as he headed over to try and rescue his mate from their rather hysterical son, who was showing no signs of calming down at all. Micha had had to place him on the floor so that he wasn’t being hit with any of the toddlers flailing limbs but the submissive seemed worried that his little boy was going to hurt himself.

 

“Daddy cuddles, Daddy cuddles,” Toby insisted, wiggling his feet impatiently when Harry had stopped to talk to Damon instead of going straight to Fenrir. Tobias was absolutely besotted with his father, the two of them were inseparable most of the time. Ever since he had learnt to walk, Tobias had been following his father around, attempting to copy everything that he did, almost never leaving him alone.

 

Harry laughed softly as the Alpha stopped what he was doing and turned to look at his mate and their son as they approached him, having heard his little boy calling out for him. “You heard the boy, Fen,” Harry said with a grin on his face as Toby stretched out the arm that wasn’t holding the purple dragon towards his father, wanting to be cuddled by the large Alpha male. Most of the time Harry could relate to this. “Duty calls, jump to.”

 

“I’m a little busy,” Fenrir said motioning to the boar carcass he was currently skinning and his blood coated hands. Most of the time he would have happily dropped anything for both Harry and Toby but it had taken longer than he had anticipated to catch the two boars and they’d take a while to cook too. He really didn’t have the time to stop and indulge his precious little boy.

 

“Fenrir Greyback,” Harry said disapprovingly, his brow furrowing in disapproval. “Surely you can spare two minutes to give your son a cuddle.”

 

“Not if you want to eat today,” Fenrir grunted, going back to his task; he was mostly done and if they didn’t get it on the fire soon then it was going to be rather late before anyone got anything to eat.

 

From the Alpha’s perspective, Toby was already cuddling with his mother so Fenrir was sure that the boy could wait the twenty minutes or so that it would take to finish up with the boar, then both Toby and Harry could have his undivided attention for the remainder of the day.

 

If it had been in any other situation he would have just taken the boy onto his lap and carried on with whatever it was that he was doing, but he wouldn’t risk it, not while he was working with a sharp blade. Toby wasn’t one to just sit still and be content; he was a wriggler and Fenrir wouldn’t risk hurting his child, even accidentally.

 

“No cuddles?” Toby asked his mother sadly in a quiet voice that was barely above a whisper, burying his head in Harry’s neck and starting to cry harder than ever. “Daddy...no...want...cuddles,” Toby said between his sobs as his little arms tightened around Harry’s neck, the dragon toy squished between them.

 

Glaring rather angrily at Fenrir, Harry couldn’t believe what his mate had just done, he was more than a little unhappy with the Alpha and how he had just acted. He brought up a hand to rub soothing circles on his son’s back, trying to comfort and calm him down a little.

 

“Because Daddy is being so mean, why don’t we go and have a special cuddle with Mummy’s Baloo bear?” he suggested, turning to his little boy, wanting to cheer up his son and needing to put some distance between himself and Fenrir or otherwise he was bound to do or say something that he would no doubt regret later.

 

“Boo bear cuddle, Mummy,” Toby agreed with a little nod of his head, his little sobs almost breaking Harry’s heart and making him want to hit his mate over the head with something hard. If he hadn’t been holding Toby then he might have done just that. Harry turned to go, unable to carry on looking at his mate when he had just broken their son’s heart in rejecting his cuddles.

 

“Harry,” Fenrir said with a sigh; realising just how angry his little mate was, he stood up, trying to go after the two of them but Harry whirled around, glaring at Fenrir furiously.

 

Their son was upset and his father had just dismissed him; it was all Harry could do to not start shouting at his mate. However, he managed to rein in his temper, knowing that it would just upset Toby more if they were to start shouting at one another.

 

“No Fen, you made your choice,” he said a little coldly, needing to focus on Toby for the moment; he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to cheer up his little boy while dealing with the infuriating Alpha at the same time. Sometimes he wondered who the bigger child between Tobias and Fenrir was. “Go and spend time with that boar, it’s obviously more important than us,” he said bluntly.

 

“Little one,” the Alpha growled, annoyed at the tone Harry was using with him, taking a few more steps towards his mate. He hated the insinuation that anything was a priority over Harry and Toby; more or less everything he had done for the last two decades had been for the two of them in one way or another.

 

Harry put a hand over Toby’s ear, the one that wasn’t pressed against his shoulder, so that he wouldn’t hear the argument. “You made your not even two year old son cry because you wouldn’t give him a cuddle, Fenrir,” he said in a furious whisper, “so don’t you ‘little one’ me right now. I’m so mad I could scream. How could you do that to him? He idolises you!”

 

“I was busy and I didn’t want him near the blade,” Fenrir said, his voice coming out as a soft growl, “I didn’t mean to make him cry,” the Alpha added with a frown. Fenrir honestly hadn’t thought that it would have affected his son all that much when he had his mother giving him cuddles.

 

“Well you did,” Harry said, turning around and starting to walk away again; Toby batted his mother’s hand away from his head, not liking not being able to hear what was going on, the little boy's other arm holding firmly onto the little purple dragon.

 

“Little one, I… I apologise for upsetting him,” Fenrir said quietly, knowing that it was what his mate wanted to hear him say but looking highly uncomfortable with saying the word regardless. Despite the years of Harry insisting that he practice, he still didn’t like saying it.

 

On this occasion, in particular, he didn’t feel as if he should have to apologise for what had happened, he had had his reasons after all; he had wanted to keep Tobias safe and he couldn’t feel sorry for that even if it had made the boy cry. Keeping his mate and son safe would always be his top priority regardless of what he had to do to achieve it or how Harry felt on the matter.

 

“It wasn’t me you made cry, Fenrir,” Harry said pointedly, pausing in his steps but not even looking back at his mate, trying to keep the anger from his voice while Toby was in ear shot. Harry looked down at his little boy’s sad face and brushed away the tears that clung to his cheeks.

 

The Alpha moved so that he was in eyesight of his son and held out his hands, which were blood soaked from the boar, but Toby didn’t fall into them as he usually would have done, instead he gripped at Harry tighter, burying his head into the nape of his mother’s neck. It was extremely out of character for the little boy, who was besotted with his father and was always after the attention of the Alpha.

 

“Boo bear pwease, Mummy,” Toby said quietly, determinedly not looking at his father. Fenrir frowned at the rejection dealt by his son, not used to the little boy ignoring him like that.

 

“Okay, Toby,” Harry said affectionately. “Maybe we can try Daddy later, when he isn’t so busy?” he queried but Toby shook his head.

 

“Daddy not nice,” Toby said with a small sob. Harry sighed; he loved how close Toby and Fenrir were as father and son and it hurt to see the little boy reject his father almost as much as it had hurt the other way around. But Harry couldn’t deny that it might be a good thing for Fenrir to see how it felt when the situation was reversed.

 

“Not even if Daddy says that he’s sorry?” Harry asked hopefully. He might be angry and frustrated with his mate at the moment but he didn’t want the amazing relationship that Fenrir and Toby had to become damaged.

 

“Daddy never say sorry,” Toby stated, and Harry was mildly surprised that his son had picked up on that already, when he wasn’t quite two yet. “Not even to mummy,” the little boy added, looking up at Harry with watery eyes.

 

“He does sometimes, Toby, but only when he is really, very, very sorry,” Harry explained, glancing up at Fenrir who looked a little stunned by his son’s words.

 

“Boo bear, Mummy?” Toby questioned, not realising the effect that his words had had on his parents. Harry gave Fenrir a knowing look, registering the concerned look on his mate's face. The submissive however had no sympathy, it was something that the Alpha had brought on himself after all.

 

“Yes, let’s go find him,” Harry said, turning and heading over towards his old school trunk. He could hear the Alpha’s footsteps as his mate followed him. “Give us half an hour with Baloo, Fen,” Harry requested gently without stopping or turning around to look at his mate. “Then why don’t you try coming and giving Toby the apology he deserves, and he better believe you because I am not going to fix this for you.”

 

Having nothing further to add, Harry knelt down in front of the large trunk and heaved it open with one hand, the other still supporting his son. He dug down deep into the contents to find the bear that had been put there for safe keeping, out of reach of sticky fingers that would have no respect for sentimentality. He used to like having Baloo with him a lot of the time, but it had become quickly apparent that the ancient and rather fragile bear wasn’t going to last long if left within Toby’s reach.

 

By the time he stood back up, having found Baloo, Fenrir was back by the boar, knife in hand, but there was a scowl on the Alpha’s face that reassured Harry that his mate was taking the matter regarding Toby rejecting him seriously. Harry wasn’t surprised by this at all; he knew that Toby was the centre of the Alpha’s world, but he needed to ensure that Fenrir made sure Toby knew that; all too often his mate would simply take it for granted that everyone just understood how he felt.

 

The Alpha may have unhappily gone back to his task but he was not as focused on it as he should have been anymore. Out of the corner of his eye he kept a close eye on his mate and son as they sat down, a few feet away from him, and had cuddles with the fluffy purple dragon and the stuffed brown bear, which had been Harry’s childhood toy and was now a little worse for wear.

 

He liked to watch over them most of the time anyway but he particularly liked it when they sat and talked to each other; he found it rather endearing that the two of them would natter away to one another rather intently. He couldn’t understand half of what was said whenever he was in earshot but that seemed to be part of the game between mother and son. He watched them and listened now even if it meant he was only half thinking about what he was doing.

 

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath as he caught the side of his hand with the sharp blade, a deep cut sliced into his flesh; that’s what he got for not paying attention when he was working with sharp implements. In seconds Callie was hovering over him, taking the blade from him and placing it to one side, out of the way of the children, and trying to get Fenrir to hold still long enough to allow her to look at the cut.

 

“It’s nothing,” the Alpha insisted, trying to pull his hand away, but Callie wasn’t having any of it and quickly grabbed hold of it again with a scowl of annoyance and began cleaning and healing the wound with her wand with a practiced ease, cleaning away the blood as she went, disinfecting the wound.

 

“You should just go talk to them, before you accidentally cut your hand off or something,” she said disapprovingly giving him a pointed look. It was obvious that the Alpha wouldn’t be getting his mind off of his young family until he had settled things between them and until then it was probably wise that he didn’t continue to skin the boar as it would likely result in more injuries, potentially some that would not be so easily healed.

 

“Half an hour,” the Alpha grunted, going to pick up the knife again when Callie was done, but she quickly got a light grip on his wrist; she couldn’t actually stop him by force, but thankfully he waited, with an impatient expression on his face, to hear what she had to say.

 

“Go talk to them, Fenrir,” she insisted again. It was Christmas day and today, of all days, they shouldn’t be arguing. Of course it always happened but if she could prevent a few of the disagreements from spiralling out of control and ruining the day then she would.  

 

“Harry asked for half an hour,” he said again.

 

“Fenrir Greyback,” she said sternly and Fenrir couldn’t help but wonder what it was with people saying his full name today. “Are you the Alpha of this pack or not? And since when have you ever respected his boundaries? Go and talk to them.” Though she took a firm tone with him, she kept her voice low. It was a risky move to talk to the Alpha male in such a way but she was determined to keep the peace today but she wasn’t about to allow any of the others to overhear her talking to the Alpha so sharply.

 

He glanced over at where Harry was sitting with Toby, Baloo and the dragon all cuddled up on his lap; his little mate seemed to be telling their son some kind of story with them, but whatever it was, it was making the little boy giggle. Handing the knife over to Callie, the Alpha pushed himself to his feet and headed towards his family, listening carefully to try and catch what the two of them were talking about.

 

“But Rory the dragon couldn’t beat Baloo the bear, because Baloo was so big and strong; far stronger than the dragon,” Harry was saying. He was becoming rather animated with the toys and Toby seemed to be absolutely enthralled by it.

 

“No, Rory stwonger than Boo bear,” Toby insisted with a giggle, holding up the purple dragon for his mother to see, before cuddling it back against himself again as if letting it go would destroy him.

 

“Oh, I don’t think so, Toby,” Harry said, picking up Baloo and looking at his face carefully. “Look at his scary face,” he said, wiggling the bear at Toby with a playful growl, making the little boy giggle again as he hid behind the little purple dragon.

 

“No, Mummy,” Toby said through his giggles, “Boo bear isn’t scary. Boo bear like you and dwagon like Daddy, big and scary,” his voice dropping and taking on a serious tone as he said the last few words.

 

Without saying a word Fenrir took a seat beside his mate and child, pulling them both onto his lap without any warning and encircling them with his arms, holding them there; he didn’t want his son to think of him as big and scary. They were the two most precious things in the world to him and he would do anything for them.

 

“I think I should have bought you a watch for Christmas, Wolfie,” Harry said with a roll of his eyes and an exasperated tone, but he made no move to escape from his mate’s arms. “That was a very short half an hour.”

 

Fenrir grunted in response, nuzzling into his little mate and making sure that Toby wasn’t getting squashed between them at all but was still included in the cuddle. When the Alpha looked at his little son he couldn’t help but grin at the scowl upon his face, it really was one of the cutest things he had ever seen.

 

“Naughty, Daddy,” Toby said, giving his father a rough poke to the chest. “It’s story time. Go way.”

 

“I think that Daddy came to say he’s sorry, munchkin,” Harry said to his little boy who was still scowling fiercely at his father.

 

“Little one,” Fenrir growled in annoyance but Harry just looked up at his mate sternly, not about to take any crap from the Alpha today. Toby remained sat on Harry’s lap, cuddled in Fenrir’s arms, looking at both his parents curiously as he held Rory over his chest, snuggled into his arms.

 

“You owe him an apology, Fenrir,” Harry stated firmly. Harry could cope with the Alpha’s avoidance when it came to the word sorry; however, when it came to their son, Harry was determined that his mate wouldn’t be that way. Tobias was a child and he wouldn’t understand the issues that his father had with expressing himself.

 

“Daddy never say he sorry, Daddy, naughty,” Toby said, wriggling to try and get out from the embrace of his parents, though Harry managed to keep him with them, knowing that the conversation wasn’t over. He was determined to help Fenrir fix the bond with his son no matter what it took, despite what he had said before.

 

“You can’t talk to your father like that, Toby, even if he has been a little bit silly,” Harry chastised gently before turning back to his mate. “Fen,” he prompted, knowing that it was going to take some encouragement to get the words from his mate, even if he was truly sorry for his actions.

 

“The two of you are my priority,” he said gruffly, his entire body tensing up. It was almost as if even admitting this aloud was a struggle for him. Harry sighed, realising that it might have been a little too much to ask for the Alpha male, even where their son was concerned.

 

“That’s hardly an apology, Fen, and he’s not even two yet, you need to talk to him in a way that he will understand,” Harry said, his brow furrowed. He knew that Toby wouldn’t understand how to read into all the cryptic things that the Alpha said just yet. To be honest he didn’t really want their son to have to learn how to interpret his own father.

 

Toby however was now looking up at his father with a scowl. “Daddy sorry?” he asked, a grumpy tone to his voice as he looked up at the Alpha of their pack.

 

“Yes,” Fenrir admitted, quietly grateful for his son’s question; he could see,however, that Harry was less pleased with the fact that he had found a way out of saying the words that he always tended to avoid.

 

Harry sighed; Fenrir still had trouble with the word sorry and Toby had let him off lightly today. Almost never, in their six years together, had the Alpha said the word sorry and the word love was even rarer still, seeing as he had never once uttered it aloud. He showed it of course, it was there frequently in the way he acted, but he had never verbalized it. Harry had long ago given up hope of ever hearing the Alpha say that he loved him.

 

Deciding that today was definitely not the day to be challenging his mate on these issues, Harry glanced up, looking over the clearing at the pack around them. He smiled as he saw a rather exhausted Micha and Damon heading back towards the group, Charlie curled up in his mother’s arms, holding a plastic dinosaur in one chubby fist.

 

Damon was headed back to help the others finish off the preparations with the two boar carcases but Micha seemed to be headed their way, and Harry wondered if Charlie was going to actually prove to be better at apologies than Fenrir; it certainly wouldn’t surprise him if this was indeed the case.

 

“Why did we have kids again?” Micha asked in barely more than a whisper as he collapsed down next to Harry and the Alpha, with Charlie remaining quietly cuddled on his lap, his tantrum having taken it out of him.

 

“Everything okay?” Harry asked earnestly with a small smile to his friend; Charlie seemed quite calm now and it was unusual for the little boy to throw quite such a fuss over anything, let alone just a toy.

 

“Damon seems to think that it was just the excitement of Christmas, combined with not getting his way,” Micha explained, running his fingers through his son’s dark brown hair. “Whatever it was I just hope it doesn’t happen too often, that was horrible,” Micha said with a frown. If this was the terrible twos then he was dreading the rest of the year. “Charlie, did you have something you wanted to say to Toby?”

 

“Tobee?” Charlie questioned from where he was sitting, but Harry and Fenrir’s little boy just turned his head further away, refusing to even look at his best friend.

 

Micha let Charlie climb off his lap and watched carefully as his son approached the Alpha, Harry and Tobias; Charlie bent himself to the side, tipping his head a little trying to see Toby’s face properly, but the little boy was still clinging to his purple dragon and burying his face against his parents.

 

“Are you not going to talk to Charlie, munchkin?” Harry asked gently.

 

“Char Char not nice, took Rory,” Toby stated. The little boy looked up at his parents. “Char Char meaner than Daddy.”

 

“Wow that’s pretty mean,” Harry muttered under his breath, unable to contain his smile at his son’s words; he quickly had to school his features before meeting his son’s eyes. “You let Daddy apologise to you, don’t you think you should let Charlie try to say sorry too?”

 

“Why Awpha mean?” Charlie asked with a confused expression on his face; he liked the Alpha and thought that Toby did too.

 

“Cos he say no Daddy cuddles,” Toby said quickly, before remembering he wasn’t meant to be talking to Charlie and burying his face into Harry again.

 

“Tobee want Char Char special dinosaur?” Charlie asked, holding out the plastic t-rex he had been holding. “Charlie sorry,” he said, sitting down in front of the Alpha pair and their son.

 

Toby slowly peered at his best friend, looking sceptical. “And Char Char no take Rory dwagon?”

 

“Charlie and Tobee both play with Rory dwagon?” Charlie asked hopefully.

 

“No,” Toby said firmly, as he wriggled out of his parents grasp and onto his own two feet. “Rory stay with Mummy and boo bear,” he said, making sure the purple dragon was in Harry’s hands before he turned back to Charlie.

 

As the two toddlers had their discussion, Fenrir had tightened his hold around Harry’s waist, watching the two pups keenly; a hundred and one thoughts running through his mind, however when it came time for him to speak there was only one that came to the forefront. Leaning his head on his little mate’s shoulder, he whispered, “I want another one.”

 

“Another one, another what?” Harry asked softly, feeling slightly confused, looking up at his mate and following his gaze to their son, before it dawned on him. “Oh, you mean you want another baby?” Harry asked, his voice an awed whisper.

 

Fenrir made a kind of grunting noise that Harry took to mean yes. Another child? Harry thought to himself; Toby was already nearly two and even if they conceived straight away their little boy would be nearly three before they would actually have another child. He found that the idea didn’t terrify him at all, the fact that Fenrir wanted him to have another baby with him stoked a fire in the pit of Harry’s stomach, one fuelled by lust and desire.

 

He watched on as Charlie said sorry to Toby again and sheepishly made a peace offering in the form of the plastic t-rex. Apparently it was enough for his son, because a moment later Toby was wrapping his best friend in a hug; Harry was definitely glad that Toby took after him in how he showed affection, he didn’t think he could cope with another grumpy dominant in his life.

 

He glanced at Micha, who was wearing his ‘that’s so ridiculously cute’ face. Harry agreed with the sentiment; the two boys were adorable; though a second later they broke apart and start pushing at each other in a race to get to the toy box. Harry laughed; yeah, he could probably get on board with having another one, though it would be interesting to see what he could get his mate to do in attempting to persuade him.

 

“I’ll think about it,” Harry said with a smile playing on his lips, looking up at his mate with an amused look on his face. However, the look that Fenrir gave him in return showed Harry that the Alpha was already clued into his little game and wouldn’t be fooled.

 

“We should practice,” Fenrir suggested, pulling his mate more firmly against him so that Harry could feel the beginnings of his erection growing in his jeans.

 

“You really think we need to practice, after six years and one baby already?” Harry asked as he felt his own cock start twitching in interest.

 

“Little one…”

 

“I suppose if Micha is happy to…” Harry began, glancing to his fellow submissive who was looking a little amused at the situation. Being sat so close he had heard most of the conversation they had had and was finding it rather entertaining.

 

“I have an eye on them, don’t worry,” Micha said before Harry had even finished his sentence, nodding his head towards where Leah was helping Charlie and Toby get the toys they wanted out.

 

“Great because the Alpha could really use the practice,” Harry said cheekily before letting out a startled yelp as he was hoisted none too gently up and over the shoulder of the Alpha. Though he couldn’t help but laugh as Fenrir began heading towards the forest with him, one hand on his bum to hold him in place.

 

Micha was laughing as he gathered up Baloo and Rory before they got dirty; there would probably be tears from both Harry and Toby if that happened. He got up and went and put them safely back in Harry’s trunk, burying them safely at the bottom.

 

“Buh bye, Mummy,” Toby called out, waving at his parents as he spotted them headed off towards the edge of the clearing.

 

“Stay with Charlie,” Harry shouted back. “And ask Micha if you need anything, munchkin." He could see his little boy laughing at them, enjoying the rather dominant display that Fenrir was showing, not that the pups knew what they were going off to do.

 

Harry had thought it was too soon for them to think about having another child, but now he had the idea in his head of giving Toby a brother or sister, he couldn’t help but smile and hope that their little family would grow again soon and he certainly wasn’t against practicing in the meantime.

 

Sneaking off during the day wasn’t exactly easy, not when Tobias was so keen to follow his father around and pretend that he was the Alpha just like his Daddy. It was only recently, as Toby had become old enough to forge a proper friendship with the slightly older Charlie, that they had had more opportunities to sneak into the forest to have some alone time with one another.

 

Harry wasn’t sure why but within the last month or so Fenrir had been wanting their alone time to happen more and more frequently. His request for another baby really made sense now that Harry thought about it. Toby was perfect and he was growing up, it was the perfect time to give him a sibling and secretly Harry was hoping for a little girl.

 

Toby was quickly distracted from his parents vanishing into the forest as Charlie handed him another little toy dinosaur; Tobias was getting used to his parents disappearing off for short periods of time, so he wasn’t in the least bit bothered by being left in the clearing, particularly now that he and Charlie were best friends again. He liked his Uncles Micha and Damon looking after him; they were fun.

 

Leah had gotten lots of toys out for them and now Toby had three dinosaurs to show to Damon, he gathered them up and began to head in his direction, however before he could get very far his Uncle Micha’s hand tightened around his little wrist, stopping him, refusing to allow him to get any closer.

 

“Unc’ Damon,” Toby said with a small pout, explaining where he wanted to go by pointing with the stegosaurus in his hand.

 

“You have to wait here for a minute, Toby,” Micha explained gently to the young pup. “They are just putting the dinner on the fire and I don’t want you or Charlie to get hurt,” he told the little boy, giving a little smile to his son who had come over to join them.

 

“Fire hot,” Charlie said knowledgeably, with a serious expression on his face.

 

“That’s right, Charlie,” Micha said proudly, glad that his son had finally got the message; there had been several close calls where Charlie had been just a little too fascinated by the large fire that was kept burning in the middle of their clearing, though thankfully the pack was very watchful about where young hands were.

 

“But dine-saur,” Toby said with a pout.

 

“Can I see your dinosaurs, Toby?” Callie asked gently, as she approached, having spotted that Micha was trying to stop the young boy from getting any closer to the fire.

 

“Look, Cawwie, look,” he said, suddenly smiling and holding all three of the plastic dinosaurs up for her to see. “T-rex is Char Char dinosaur,” he explained.

 

“Mine,” Charlie agreed, wrapping his arms around Toby, “Wuv my Tobee.” Callie and Micha both had to keep from laughing at the two year olds possessiveness over his best friend.

 

“Cawwie…” Toby began, looking up at his auntie curiously, more or less ignoring his best friend being attached to him, far too used to Charlie to be bothered by it. “Where Mummy and Daddy gone?”

 

“They use naughty words when they go into the forest,” Violetta said matter-of-factly, coming over to join them, having had enough of helping with the cooking now that the skinning and gutting was finished. “Naughty words like-”

 

“That’s enough of that, Violet,” Callie said swiftly, she could only imagine what she might have heard, wandering into the forest while the Alpha pair were enjoying their alone time.

 

Violet crossed her arms over her chest, pouted and stuck her nose in the air, before sulking off to go see what Leah and Ceylon were doing, because if they were doing something fun without her she was going to be really upset.

 

Callie knelt down to Toby’s level so that she could talk to him. “You don’t listen to Violet, she’s just being silly,” she said. “Your Mummy and Daddy just like to go and have cuddles.”

 

“But I want Mummy, Daddy cuddles,” Toby said with a disapproving scowl.

 

“Mummy and Daddy will be back soon and then I am sure they will want lots of Toby cuddles,” Micha assured the little boy. “So why don’t we play with these dinosaurs for a bit and then they will be back before you know it.”

 

Charlie cheered, releasing his best friend so that he could clap his approval, and Toby nodded enthusiastically. “Okay, Unc’ Micha.”

 

“I call this one Tobee,” Charlie said pointing out the plastic T-rex in Toby's hand.

 

“But that’s my name, Char Char,” Toby said, seemingly thinking that his best friend was being very silly. Callie and Micha watched on fondly as the two little boys began to play with their dinosaurs, making the occasional roaring noise between them.

 

FGHP

 

Sated from his afternoon romp in the forest with his mate, and with his belly delightfully full of boar, Harry couldn’t have been happier. His mate was curled around him and his son was asleep on his lap. Tobias had refused to sleep without Rory and even now, as he slept, his little arms held tightly to the purple dragon as if afraid someone might steal him.

 

“He’s become rather attached to that thing,” Fenrir said disapprovingly, having followed his mate's gaze down to where their son slept. He wasn’t keen on his only child being attached to a stuffed dragon, it didn’t seem fitting for a dominant male or the son of an Alpha to have such an attachment but he didn’t have the heart to separate them and he doubted that Harry would have allowed it.

 

“I think it’s sweet,” Harry said as he ran his fingers through his little boy’s tufty black hair that already stuck out all over the place uncontrollably. After a moment of silence where the Alpha had started to nuzzle into his mates neck, placing soft kisses there, Harry asked; “Did you mean what you said, about another one?”

 

“I meant it,” Fenrir responded in his usual dulcet tones.

 

“I want another one too,” Harry agreed with a small smile as he turned to look at Fenrir, careful not to disturb the young boy in his lap. Instead of verbalising his response the Alpha pressed his lips to Harry’s in a searing kiss, acknowledging that they would be trying for their second baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The picture at the end is Rory. If you actually want to buy your own Rory, we can tell you where to get one, so just send one of us a message.


	23. Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Damon and Callie came to be Werewolves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy this snippet as to how Damon and Callie came to be Werewolves and don't forget to leave a comment and let us know what you think.

Fragmented Soul: The Furry Bit

 

Forgiveness

 

August 1968

 

Leanne Danes couldn’t have had a more perfect and wonderful life. She had married the man of her dreams, whom she had met at Hogwarts during their time at school there. He had been a handsome sixth year and she’d been a shy fifth year, who preferred to spend her time in the library, reading books, than making friends; he had come into her life and swept her off her feet.

They had waited until she had graduated, and Jonathan had managed to get an internship at the Ministry of Magic, before they got married. She had been just nineteen when she had fallen pregnant with their son, Damon, who, at eight years old, was now so grown up and protective of his two little sisters. Callie was now four years old and their little surprise, Leah, who hadn’t been expected or planned, was now one year old.

“Come now, Damon,” Leanne said, ruffling her son’s dark brown hair; it was in desperate need of a cut, but Damon was refusing point blank on that front, at least he was until his father could take him. There was no father and son that could be closer than the two of them, especially in a house full of three girls. “Your sisters have been in bed for hours, now it’s your turn.”

“But Mum,” Damon said, looking at her with annoyance and exasperation, “I really want to see Dad!”

“Your father is going to be late, he has a meeting tonight,” Leanne tried to explain to her eight year old son.

“I don’t care,” Damon insisted, crossing his arms over his chest in a stubborn refusal to do as he was told.

“Damon Charles Danes, if you think you are waiting up for your father you’re in for a huge disappointment,” Leanne said sternly. “You will go upstairs right this instant or there will be no football with Daniel in the morning; are we clear?”

“Mum,” Damon groaned, “that isn’t fair!”

Leanne was, however, perfectly used to dealing with her stubborn boy and an hour later Damon was tucked up in bed fast asleep; Leanne switched off his nightlight and gave him a kiss to the forehead. So headstrong, just like his father and yet still afraid of the dark at eight years old; she wouldn’t have changed her darling boy for the world.

On the way downstairs she looked in on her two daughters, who shared the second largest bedroom in their modest three bedroom home. Leah was sucking on her thumb in her crib, holding on to her snuggy, an old blanket that she hadn’t let go of since she was born.

Callie was in a big girl bed, surrounded by a doll, three teddies and her special purple elephant, which went everywhere with her, was affectionately called lumpy, and was more often than not dragged round by the trunk. Leanne smiled at her eldest daughter, who always insisted on sleeping with so many toys, not wanting to hurt any of their feelings by excluding them. Callie had such a kind heart.

Assured that her children were safe and content in their beds, she pulled their bedroom doors to, leaving them open only a little before heading downstairs. As her foot hit the bottom step she heard the sharp crack of apparition that announced the arrival of her husband, home from work for the day.

Smiling happily to herself, she made her way into the kitchen; even after nine years of marriage and three children they still loved each other unconditionally. Leanne couldn’t imagine her life without any of her family, her heart swollen with love for each and every one of them.

“How was wor-?” she began to ask before she caught sight of her husband as he collapsed boneless into a chair at their kitchen table, one of the sleeves of his robes torn and stained with blood. His face was pale, drained and he was clearly in pain. “Merlin, are you okay? What happened?”

“It’s okay, my love, it’s fine; I’m fine,” Jonathan said, trying to sooth his hysterical wife as she rushed forward trying to take the injured arm in hand to inspect it.

“This is not fine,” she chastised as she saw deep, puncturing tooth marks in her husband’s right forearm. “What on earth happened?”

He really could understand her worry, though she never stopped; nothing could ever make Leanne stop worrying about the family she loved so much. Jonathan sighed, removing his arm from her grip, wincing as pain shot up his arm. “I was foolish enough to attempt to intervene in a fight,” he tried to explain.

“A fight, at the ministry?” Leanne asked in shock as she fetched a bowl of warm water and a cloth to attempt to clean the wound. She was no healer that was for sure but Damon had been scrapping his knees and bumping his head since he was old enough to walk so she knew most of the basics.

“Yes, not entirely sure what about,” Jonathan explained as he shrugged off his robe, something that had become extremely difficult to do without causing himself pain. “One of the men involved, the one who gave me this, ran off the second I separated them.”

“I can’t believe he attacked you,” Leanne said with a scowl as she sat down in front of her husband and started to clean off the blood. “This isn’t stopping,” she informed him, “I think perhaps we should take you to St Mungos.”

“I don’t want to cause a fuss,” Jonathan insisted. “Clean me up and bandage it, I’ll be fine.”

“Fine,” Leanne said with a sigh, knowing that she would never be able to convince her husband to do anything that he didn’t want to tonight. “But, if it’s still this bad in the morning we’re going to St Mungos and that is my final word on the matter.”

 

FGHP

 

Three days later and Jonathan had become a lot worse. He had broken out in a fever, sweat pouring out of him; he was in and out of consciousness most of the time and still refusing to see anyone who might have been able to help him or tell him what was wrong. Leanne was terrified of what was happening to her husband but he wouldn’t let her call anyone; stubborn to the end it seemed and there was nothing that she could say to convince him otherwise. With three children to care for and a sick husband, who was convinced it was just a bug and had nothing to do with his injured arm, Leanne was at a loss of what to do.

She had been holding back the tears all day, she didn’t have time to break down and cry, not with Damon, Callie and Leah to look after. Damon didn’t understand where his father and best friend had gone, why he wasn’t getting better. Callie and Leah were thankfully oblivious to the whole thing and Damon, wanting to be the greatest big brother ever, had taken to entertaining his sisters whenever Leanne had needed a moment to herself.

She was running a little behind this evening. Leah and Callie were in bed but Damon was still awake and watching television as she sorted the dishes from dinner. Silent tears ran down her cheeks, she knew that she would have to fire call St Mungos in the morning; she didn’t have a choice anymore; Jonathan wasn’t getting better and she needed her husband back, it was destroying her to see him deteriorating right in front of her.

A high pitched scream coming from her husband upstairs had Leanne drop the plate she had been drying, the china shattering as it collided with the floor, her heart almost stopping in horror as she ran from the room. All she could think about was her two sleeping daughters upstairs.

“Stay down here, Damon,” she shouted as she charged through the living room, heading up the stairs. Despite her instruction she heard him following her regardless. She knew that he would be worried about his sisters and she couldn’t begrudge him that; she had raised him to protect and look after them after all.

“What’s happening, Mum?” Damon asked as they raced down the landing, towards where Callie and Leah were sleeping, as a deafening howl ripped through the house.

“Go to your sisters, shut the door, put everything and anything that you can in front of the door and don’t come out until I come and get you,” Leanne said, fear coursing through her. She didn’t know what was going on but whatever it was that had made that sound had come from inside of the house.  Her instincts told her to protect her children and then check on her husband.

Beyond terrified, Damon allowed himself to be ushered through the door to his sisters' bedroom and then his mother closed the door. He didn’t want to leave her to face whatever was inside their house on her own but she had given him a job to do; he wasn’t about to let any harm come to either of his little sisters.

Damon stood with his back against the door, his breathing coming in harsh and heavy gasps, silence filling their house. He listened and waited, his eyes screwing tightly shut as he heard the scream of his mother down the hall. It was a scream filled with pain and terror and one that never seemed to end as Damon sunk to the ground, curling up in a ball, tears streaming down his cheeks, a second echoing howl ripped through the house.

“Damon?” Callie asked sleepily, sitting up in bed, rubbing at her eyes. The lights were still off but the curtains hadn’t been drawn over the window as the middle Danes child liked to fall asleep watching the stars at night. Tonight the strange, white light of the full moon leaked into the bedroom, casting a dull glow across the furniture, eerie shadows dancing across the floor.

At the sound of his name, Damon sprang into action. He grabbed everything that he could physically carry, doing as his mother had instructed and pushing it all against the door. Whatever was out there had hurt their mother and he wasn’t about to let it hurt his little sisters.

The scream that had come from their mother hadn’t only woken Callie, Leah was grumbling unhappily in her cot too. The noise that Damon was making in his attempt to barricade the door was not helping matters any and the one year old girl was starting to cry. At eight years old Damon hadn’t thought to keep the noise down and now his youngest sister was crying out for their mother who wasn’t coming.

“What’s going on?” Callie asked sleepily, sliding out of bed and going to her big brother, who was still pushing things up against the door. At the sound of another howl just outside of the door she gasped, her eyes going wide in horror as she flung her arms around Damon’s waist, clinging to him.

“I don’t know,” Damon said fearfully, wrapping his arms around Callie as they heard noises coming from the other side of the door. “Get back, over by Leah,” Damon instructed but Callie remained clinging to him, unable and unwilling to let go of her big brother.

Damon had done his very best, but the assortment of small objects that he had been able to lift and put in front of the door would likely prove to be no challenge to whatever was waiting outside. Damon backed himself and Callie back, so that they were between the crib and the wall. Pulling Callie’s arms from around him, Damon pushed her into the small gap hoping that she would at least be a little more protected there.

He then went to Leah who was screaming at the top of her lungs, undoubtedly drawing attention to their presence there. He struggled to lift her, she was heavy for her age, but he didn’t want to leave her in her crib; he wanted to calm and protect her. Damon swiftly handed the one year old over to Callie who looked nothing short of terrified.

“It’s going to be okay,” Damon said as he squeezed himself into the tiny gap as well, shielding his two little sisters as the bedroom door was smashed into, shattering violently and sending shards of wood across the room. Damon froze in fear as he was confronted with the largest wolf he could ever imagine. He had never seen a real life wolf, of course, but he had seen them in books and such, and the animal before him was nothing like those creatures; this was something else.

Though they didn't know it, it was a creature that had once been their father and could now smell the fear radiating off them, enticing him to them as they cowered helplessly together. It snarled at them baring it’s bloody teeth and Damon could feel Callie trembling, pressed against his back. He was sure that their mother wasn’t coming now; his sisters’ lives depended on him.

“Make it go away,” Callie whimpered, as she peered around her brother at the fearsome monster that had burst into their room and was now prowling ever closer. “I’m scared, Damon,” she told him.

“Me too,” Damon admitted, not having a clue what to do. He wanted to run and hide but that would mean leaving Callie and Leah as easy prey. He couldn’t think clearly; Leah was crying loudly, Callie sobbing and clearly terrified, and the wolf was getting ever closer.

He hesitated too long and the beast pounced. Damon kicked out, purely from instinct, and jaws clamped down upon the limb, drawing a blood curdling scream from the eight year olds throat; Leah’s cries and Callie’s screams mixing with his. He had never known pain like it and he had never been so scared in his whole life as he pleaded for it to stop.

The wolf released its bite on Damon and raised a claw, swiping it across the eight year olds chest, knocking him the floor, barely conscious. “No,” Damon mumbled, as he watched the beast snarl at his sisters.

“Go away, go away,” Callie begged quietly, her arms wrapped around Leah. “Mummy,” she cried out, “Mummy, Daddy, Damon, help.” Her face was wet with tears as she looked between the wolf and her blood covered brother.

Damon was not going to give up so easily. His chest seared with pain, his leg throbbing from where he had been bitten. Struggling, he used the wall to pull himself up as the beast advanced upon his sisters. However, he moved too slowly and he couldn’t reach the great wolf before it pounced upon them, its jaws opening and clamping down around Leah’s shoulder and neck. The tiny baby screamed at the top of her lungs as Damon leaped upon the wolf.

He had no idea what he was doing, all he knew was that he had to save his sisters; it was what his Mum had told him he had to do and he was determined. The creature discarded Leah, focusing on trying to remove the young boy from its back. Seeing her baby sister lying screaming and bleeding on the floor, Callie scrabbled to try and reach Leah; but the wolf had other ideas and clamped its teeth down into the four year old's right shoulder.

“Callie!” Damon shouted as the great beast finally managed to throw him off. The eight year boy clawed his way over to his two injured sisters as a commotion in the hallway drew the beast’s attention away from them.

“Help!” Callie screamed but Damon quickly clamped his hand over his sister’s mouth, stifling her cries for aid and her sobs. He didn’t quite trust the fact that there were strangers in their home; but he was undeniably grateful that the wolf had turned from the three of them, prowling from the room.

Damon was in pain but, hissing a warning to Callie to stay quiet and stay put, he crawled to the doorway and peered out into the corridor. There were strangers brandishing wands and all seemed to be wearing exactly the same outfit of snuggly fitted black, with dark red arm and leg protectors on their limbs. Damon thought he could see a logo on their tops but it was difficult to see and he didn’t care enough to try; what seemed more important was that the strangers seemed unsurprised and confident in the face of the beast.  

He couldn't catch much of what they were saying, but the strangers referred to the wolf by their father's name and something clicked in Damon's brain, an understanding about what was happening, about what the beast was and it broke his heart, for he knew his father was lost to them now; he couldn't even bring himself to accept who the wolf really was. He was old enough to know the truth though and if his father was indeed a werewolf that meant that he, Callie and Leah would now be too as they had all been bitten.

He hurried back to his sisters; they had to get somewhere safe before either the wolf or the unknown men came looking for them. Callie was cradling Leah in her arms, the tiny girl having lost consciousness; from the look of her and the fact that she was no longer crying, Damon thought that was best because she was badly injured.

They weren’t going to be able to get very far with the injuries they had. Damon felt as if he had failed them, he had failed their Mum. However, he wasn’t about to let these men get anywhere near them. They couldn’t run but they could hide. This was their house, their home and they knew it better than anyone else.

“It hurts,” Callie whimpered, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

“I know,” Damon said quietly. “Come on, we need to hide,” he said, taking the unconscious body of the little one year old girl into his arms to carry her, knowing that Callie, at just four years old, wouldn’t manage it.  

“Who are those men?” Callie whimpered with fear in her voice; she remained standing close to her brother as shouting of spells and cries of violence echoed around their home.

“Under the bed,” Damon said quickly as the voices came closer; they were calling out to find the children and he wasn’t about to let that happen. Whoever these men were, Damon couldn’t be sure that they didn’t mean them any harm.

Callie went first, crawling, with some difficulty thanks to her injured shoulder, under her big girl bed, which had been bought for her only two weeks previously when she had outgrown her toddler bed. Damon pushed the still bleeding body of his littlest sister beneath the bed towards Callie before crawling underneath too, wincing at the pain in his leg.

“What if they see us?” Callie asked getting as close as she could to her big brother, she was in so much pain but the fear had over ridden it, she could hardly feel a thing. Damon’s leg and chest throbbed painfully too but his only concern was to protect his sisters.

“They’re coming,” Damon said, his voice a terrified whisper as he pulled Leah and Callie close to him. Callie had screwed her eyes tightly closed as two pairs of booted feet entered the room. Neither of the conscious two Danes children could see anything other than the ankles and feet.

“Look everywhere,” came a harsh barked command. “If they’ve been bitten or scratched, you know what to do, we take no chances.” This voice was one that struck fear in the eight year old boy, he was under no illusion that these men, whoever they were, they were here to do them harm.

Don’t let them see us, don’t let them see us, don’t let them see us. It was all Damon could think about. The wardrobe doors across the room were wrenched open; the crib was forcefully thrown to one side. Then they started moving towards the bed where they were hiding.

Damon put a hand over Callie’s mouth to quiet her breathing as he held his own breath; the sound of the footsteps approaching them was frighteningly loud and all Damon could do was pray that they wouldn’t be found, still repeating his mantra of ‘Don’t let them see us’ in his head.

They almost screamed when one of the men bent down and peered under the bed. Damon and Callie looked right into the man’s dark eyes, but he didn’t meet their stares; he scanned around under the bed for a few seconds, got back to his feet and started pulling the covers from the bed.

Callie looked as though she wanted to ask what had just happened, but Damon shook his head; he couldn’t have told her even if they could have risked speaking. He had had weird things happen to him before though, he remembered; accidental magic his father had called it; that must have been what he had done. Apparently they hadn’t been seen, and that was all he cared about at the moment.

“Nothing here,” someone called out as they left the bedroom a few minutes later.

“Not in here either,” was shouted from down the hall.

“Only the mother in here,” came a third voice. “She’s definitely dead. Did a right number on her, he did.”

“Search the area around the house, maybe they got out,” someone else ordered. The other men that had been ransacking the bedroom in search of them headed for the door, leaving them alone but still searching.

At the mention of their mother, fresh tears began to fall from Damon’s eyes; he knew that if he hadn’t had a hand over Callie’s mouth then she would have cried out as he felt her crying too. She may only have been four years old but she knew that the word dead meant something really bad.

Just outside of the room, Damon could hear them talking. “If they were bitten they’re too young to survive, they’ll be dead by morning. We spend another half an hour looking and then we go. We can’t risk that thing escaping!”

Damon, Callie and Leah remained beneath the bed until Callie fell asleep. Damon remained awake, clutching his sisters close to him, even after he heard the strangely dressed men leave. He just didn’t have the strength, physically or emotionally, to move; there was some realisation in his mind about what the bites they had sustained would mean, but he wasn't really able to process such a thought at the moment.

At some point during the night Leah drew her last breath. The injuries that she had sustained from the werewolf were just too much for her little body to cope with and she joined their mother in whatever came next; fresh tears fell from Damon's eyes then.

As dawn broke, Damon crawled slowly and painfully out from beneath the bed, turning back to help Callie who couldn’t understand why their littlest sister wouldn’t open her eyes. Damon was limping on his injured leg, Callie holding the arm that had been hurt close to her chest.

“Leah’s with Mum,” Damon told his sister, opening his arms to her so that he could hold her close to him.

“But Leah’s there,” Callie said with confusion. “Mummy isn’t with her.”

“Leah and Mum are dead, Callie,” Damon tried to explain, his voice trembling with emotion. “It’s just you and me now but I will never let you get hurt again, promise.”

“No, not dead, here, look, Leah’s there,” she told him determinedly, as she waved her uninjured arm in the direction of the one year olds lifeless body.

“We have to go,” Damon said, trying not to break down at Callie’s insistence that their baby sister wasn’t dead. “Before those men come back, we have to go.”

“Mummy, we have to get Mummy,” Callie said, not understanding. "And what about Daddy?"

“Callie, please,” Damon pleaded, not being able to stand the confusion and pain in his sister’s voice. He was still in shock from everything that had happened; their whole lives had been turned upside down in the space of one night and now the two of them were all alone in the world. “Mum and Dad are gone and they aren't coming back,” he explained.

“But who’s going to take care of us?” Callie questioned, looking up at her brother with wide fearful eyes.

“I am,” he promised her.

 

FGHP

 

Jonathan Danes was sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban for the murder of his wife and youngest daughter, whose body was found when the Ministry of Magic sent a clean-up crew to cover up the evidence of what had happened. Three years after he was sentenced, Jonathan took his own life in the wizard prison; the guilt of what he had done to his wife and youngest child, and the unknown fates of his son and eldest daughter, too much for him to live with.

Damon and Callie were never found by the Ministry, who simply assumed that they had survived the original attack only to die later on. No one official bothered to look for them. Their paternal grandparents were long dead, however Leanne’s parents never stopped looking for their two surviving grandchildren.

It wasn’t until eight years later, in 1976, when Damon was sixteen years old and Callie, twelve, did they finally find them. The street-smart sixteen year old had finally managed to track his grandparents down and find the courage to face them; the teenager had confessed he had believed they would hate him and so had not come looking for them sooner.

Damon had never been able to forgive himself for not having been able to save his mother and younger sister, and had thought his grandparents would hate him for his failure. But that day, wrapped in the arms of his grandmother, he was reminded that he had only been eight years old, and that there was nothing for them to forgive him for. It was the first time in eight years that Damon thought he might one day forgive himself.


	24. Sweet Tooth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damon and Micha get some alone time away from the pups :-)

Fragmented Soul - The Furry Bits

Sweet Tooth

**12th March 2003**

Micha was confused and mildly annoyed. As always, it had taken him and Damon a while to get three and a half year old Charlie to stay still long enough to actually fall asleep for the night, only to have three year old Toby collapse next to him and fall asleep curled around him with no fuss whatsoever, as he usually did.

The daily battle that was bedtime, however, was over; they had finally managed it and Micha was now hopeful that Harry might watch over Charlie for a little while, to give him and Damon a little alone time. Damon, though, seemed to have had other plans; he had given his mate a chaste kiss the moment Charlie had fallen to sleep and hurried off to the apparition point without so much as an explanation as to where he was going.

"I am sure he has a very good reason," Harry said as he rocked the two week old James in his arms, after Micha had complained to him that Damon had mysteriously disappeared. James was fussing a little in his mother’s arms, having just been fed and burped and now putting up a fight to not fall back to sleep. For such a tiny baby he was determined not to sleep and not to miss anything that was going on.

"Well, will you watch over Charlie so I can take him into the woods and get that reason out of him, when he gets back?" Micha requested hopefully. "Assuming he is back before I fall asleep, Charlie exhausts me," he added with a wry smile.

"Of course," Harry agreed, it wasn't as though he could really go anywhere with a two week old son to take care of and his stomach still healing from the birth. Fenrir was off hunting anyway; he had gone alone and Harry knew that his mate needed the time to adjust to having two children of his own to take care of.

"Thanks," Micha said, leaning his head on Harry's shoulder, watching little James' hands reaching up for them. The tiny baby really didn’t like being wrapped up in blankets despite the cold, Harry had quickly discovered that if he wasn’t free to move his arms around then he would scream and James had a decent set of lungs on him for one so young. Harry had found that there was a lot of reasons James made himself heard, he liked things to be a particular way.

It was only about ten minutes later that Damon returned to the clearing, looking very much like he had hurried, his hair windswept and his cheeks rosy from the cold, a shopping bag in one hand. Micha raised a questioning eyebrow as his mate approached him but simply waited for an explanation that he knew would come.

"Come on, trouble," Damon said holding out his hand for his mate to take. Micha accepted the hand and was pulled none too gently on to his feet before being dragged towards the forest, much to Harry’s amusement.

"I'll just watch over Charlie then, shall I?" Harry said pointedly to the dominant male as Damon and Micha headed for the forest. James was still gurgling energetically in his arms, showing no sign of being sleepy.

"Yes please," Damon said over his shoulder, with a grateful and slightly apologetic smile. Harry couldn’t help but roll his eyes and laugh at the man who felt like his second father. Harry had known him since he was eleven after all, Damon had pretty much raised him side by side with Severus and Harry loved Damon as a son would love his father.

"It's okay, your mate actually already asked me to," Harry told him, grinning as he adjusted his hold on his youngest son, James wriggling in his arms. "Go, go have fun."

Micha and Damon didn't need to be told twice and so hurried off past the tree line, disappearing into the darkness together, holding hands. Micha tried to stop a couple of times, thinking that they were already deep enough into the forest but his mate was insistent that they keep going; apparently he had a spot in mind.

"Here," Damon said, suddenly stopping rather abruptly and pulling Micha against his chest. He took a moment to grin at him smugly, his free hand reaching up to cup Micha’s cheek, tenderly stroking it with his thumb before he pressed their lips together, kissing him fiercely.  

Micha was certainly rather distracted from the questions he had regarding Damon's sudden running off and the contents of the bag when the dominant kissed him in such a way. Though he realised why Damon had insisted on this particular spot when his dominant walked him backward and lifted him up by his hips to sit on a large smooth rock.

"I have a present for you," Damon told Micha a little breathlessly as they finally broke their kiss. The dominant male had nestled himself between Micha’s legs after having sat him down, his hands still resting on the submissive's waist, carrier bag hanging from his wrist beside them.

"Is it chocolate?" Micha asked hopefully, with a teasing smile on his lips. Damon was forever bringing him chocolate and he was forever trying to find new places to hide it. Charlie, however, was a smart kid and always seemed to know where to find it, though he suspected that Clayton had a lot to do with this.

"Of a kind," Damon said looking more than a little pleased with himself, as he dug into the bag that was hanging from his wrist. He had been thinking a lot about the problem of their mischievous little boy stealing chocolate and therefore come up with a solution of sorts. Chocolate that was used for an entirely different purpose.

Micha just proceeded to look even more confused when his mate pulled out what looked to be a brown muggle plastic container. He was hardly complaining though when Damon climbed up onto the rock as well, straddling his hips, forcing him to lie back a little, propping himself up with his elbows.

"You won't need this," Damon said, pulling Micha's jumper up and over his head in one well practiced move, throwing it rather carelessly to one side before trailing down his mate's chest with little nips and kisses, worshipping every inch of skin.

Micha let out a rather embarrassing squeal as he felt something cold and somewhat slimy on one of his nipples, and managed to lift his head just in time to watch Damon lick what was undoubtedly chocolate sauce from his chest.

"Oh Merlin..." Micha managed to say, his voice little more than a gasp when he realised just what his mate had planned for him.

Damon chuckled and crawled up Micha's body to press a very chocolaty kiss to his mate's lips. Micha moaned happily, his tongue darting out to taste the heady mixture of Damon and chocolate.

All too soon for Micha's liking, Damon pulled back from their kiss; but he quickly appeased his mate by liberally applying the thick chocolate sauce to Micha's neck, trailing it down across his chest to the other hard nipple.

Using just the tip of his tongue, Damon followed the chocolate, swirling it around before sucking at his mate's tender flesh, lapping it clean. Micha gasped and groaned as his dominant toyed with his nipple, biting it so very gently.

Micha was so torn; he was painfully hard and yet he couldn't bring himself to ask Damon to stop the wonderful sensations. "More," he begged. "Please, Damon, more."

Not one to deny Micha's requests, Damon made quick work of undoing his mate's trousers; his fingers deftly reached in and, wrapping around Micha's hard length, stroking him twice. Micha tried to buck up to get more friction but Damon released his cock, turning his attention to ridding the submissive of his remaining clothes.

"Okay, okay, I'm naked; now more chocolate already," Micha said with a playful grin, though the way that he was unable to stay still showed the truth of his impatience.

"Mhmmm," Damon hummed in agreement. "I do have new places to taste now." And as he spoke he squeezed out a small amount of chocolate onto the underside of Micha's aching cock.

"Oh Merlin's balls!" Micha gasped out, from both the cold of the sauce and the knowledge of how Damon would remove it.

"Oh, I think you mean Micha's balls," Damon teased. "And we will move onto those next."

"Less bad jokes, more tasting," Micha insisted, moaning loud and wantonly as Damon complied.

The dominant took his time to lap the chocolate from his mate's cock, enjoying every inch, every moan and groan, every time Micha was unable to keep himself from thrusting his hips upwards in hope of more. The sight of his beautiful submissive mate was one he was certain he would never grow tired of and he had to reach down and release himself from his own trousers.

“Lie down, legs up,” Damon instructed and as Micha did as he was told Damon stripped himself of all remaining clothing. Once Micha was in position, Damon squirted some more chocolate sauce over his mate's balls, letting it drip down to his entrance.

“Damon…” Micha gasped as he felt his mate’s warm breath at his entrance, knowing what was coming, his legs trembling in anticipation.

“Patience, trouble,” Damon said with a chuckle, sending little puffs of air over Micha’s exposed skin, and shudders of pleasure down his spine.

“No, no patience,” Micha insisted, shifting his legs to spread himself open wider for Damon, hoping to entice his mate into action.

“Keep going like that and you’ll end up pregnant again,” Damon said, meaning it as a joke as he leant forward, licking at the tight ring of muscle, lapping delicately at the chocolate sauce that had dribbled there.

“No, no more, I can’t be pregnant again,” Micha gasped out as Damon’s tongue dipped inside of him.

“Have you taken the potion, trouble?” Damon asked seriously, pulling back. He was suddenly quite distracted from his task; he loved their little boy very much but he wasn’t sure that they were ready for another one just yet, no matter how appealing that idea was.

Micha propped himself up on his elbows to look down the length of his body to where Damon was looking at him with a very serious expression, but it was really difficult to focus while he was so aroused and the sight of Damon’s piercing eyes was not helping one bit. “Umm, yeah,” he said, trying to think back, “I think so, I’m sure…”

“Trouble,” Damon said warningly in a deep voice, recognising the uncertainty in his mate's voice, and knowing his tendency to forget such things.

Micha groaned, even more turned on by his mate’s voice. “Fuck it,” he said decisively; though he was possibly not in the best state of mind to be making such decisions considering he was so aroused. “I can’t wait any more, we’ll risk it, I need you,” he said, leaning his head back onto the rock and waiting for Damon to resume.

“I will remember that when you’re yelling at me for this,” Damon muttered, however his beautiful mate was far too tempting to resist, especially laying before him, legs spread wide, chocolate sauce dripping from his balls. “You’re sure?”

“Merlin, please, Damon,” Micha begged rather impatiently, pleading with his mate to continue, every muscle trembling now, desperate for his mate. The consequences be damned; he wanted Damon to carry on licking chocolate sauce from him.

Adding more of the chocolate, Damon returned his tongue to Micha’s entrance, teasing him open and enjoying every delicious noise that came from his submissive’s mouth as well as the delicious taste of Micha mixed with chocolate.

“Please tell me you brought lube,” Micha moaned out. “As hot... as the idea of you making... ah... love to me... with chocolate sauce is… I would really rather... yes... use the real deal,” he said, between panting breaths.

“Yes, don’t worry, trouble,” Damon told him with a chuckle, sending shudder's down Micha's spine. “Now, less thinking, more enjoying,” he instructed, returning his tongue to Micha's entrance, thinking that, if his mate could still string together a full sentence, then he had work to do.

While his tongue was busy probing his mate’s entrance, Damon’s hands went to work on Micha’s cock, stroking it slowly, lazily, drawing out the pleasure, teasing Micha until he was begging, pleading for more. Damon was, of course, more than happy to give it to him.

Kissing his way back up his mate’s delectable body, Damon reached for the bag that he had brought with them, knowing that somewhere at the bottom, below the can of whipped cream he purchased for use this evening, would be a tube of lubricant.

“Don’t stop,” Micha pleaded as Damon reached his lips, drawing him into a fevered kiss as they ground their erections together, Micha’s hands mapping out Damon’s back as he had done many times before, loving how he could feel each and every muscle tense beneath his fingertips.

“I don’t plan on stopping, trouble,” Damon said, breaking his kiss and smiling at his mate, both of them breathing heavily, a layer of sweat coating their bodies despite the chill in the air.

Now with the lube in hand, Damon made quick work of resuming his position at Micha’s entrance, thinking that it was time to prepare him properly. Squeezing a good amount of lube into his fingers, he started to push them inside of his mate and then to distract him from the slight burn, the dominant male took his mate’s cock into his mouth.

“Merlin! Fuck! Damon!” Micha cried out, his head going back and hitting the rock that he was lying on with a crack. He didn’t feel it, the sensations that Damon was giving him in his nether regions meant that he was numb to everything else.

Damon, however, was not so oblivious and, keeping his fingers still shifting inside his mate, he moved up so that they were face to face. “Careful, Micha,” he said with gentle tones, as he eased his free hand behind his mate’s head and lifted him just enough to press their lips together, his other hand continuing to stretch him. “I want you conscious for this.”

“Yes, yes, conscious. Sounds good, just don’t stop,” Micha begged, his eyes closing as Damon teased in a third finger, knowing that Micha was almost ready for him, everything he was going now was simply teasing foreplay. Though, it was well worth it to see the look on his mate’s face.

Micha’s hips bore down upon the fingers inside of him, desperate for more, Damon going back to stroking the submissive’s cock, teasing him by running his thumb across the sensitive tip, causing a loud groan as his belly tightened in anticipation of the coming orgasm.

“Damon…” Micha warned, not wanting to come before his mate was inside of him. “I’m…” he started to say, but Damon already knew and had no intention of stopping, his strokes picking up their pace as Micha bucked his hips upwards, thrashing about, desperate for more contact.

The moment that Damon saw that Micha was going to come he moved so that his mouth covered the tip of his mate’s cock, ready for when he came. Feeling the wet warmth surround him again was all it took for Micha to tumble over the edge.

Damon eagerly accepted his mate’s come as it shot into his mouth, swallowing it down eagerly, using his tongue to lap up any stray drops before releasing his gentle hold, allowing Micha’s cock to lay flat upon his belly, going soft again.

Making the most of his mate’s post orgasmic haze, Damon moved back over the submissive and lined himself up with Micha’s well prepared hole. He took great care as he pushed himself inside; Micha’s eyes wide and staring at him with what he knew to be lust. Damon grinned at his mate before he kissed him fiercely, as he slid further inside Micha’s tight arse.

“You taste of come and chocolate,” Micha said, observationally, when Damon broke their kiss.

“Didn’t want to waste any,” Damon said with a wink as he finally pushed himself all way inside of his mate. Micha was gripping at his dominant mate’s shoulders, his nails digging in a little, Damon enjoying the slight bite of pain that came with it.

“The chocolate or my come?” Micha asked, biting his lip as he clenched the muscles in his arse initiating a low groan from Damon as he kept himself very still, knowing how close he was. He was not about to let himself come without Micha being close again as well.

“Either,” Damon said with a grin as Micha pushed himself down, trying to force Damon to move inside of him; however, the stubborn dominant was having none of it. “Slow down, trouble,” he said, his breathing harsh and uneven, his arms shaking a little with the effort of holding himself up and still, forcing himself to calm so that he didn’t come too quickly.

It was so rare that they got any alone time and Damon was determined to make this last as long as possible. Besides, his mate was only half hard again so far and he was determined to have Micha come again before they were done.

“Please,” Micha begged, “I can’t… I need you to...please.” The desperate pleading reminded Damon of their first time, when their roles had been reversed and similar words had been coming from his mouth.

The dominant leaned down, his arms going underneath his mate, scooping him up and grasping at the submissive’s shoulders as their lips met, Micha’s clinging to Damon’s back. Damon rolled his hips gently forward to allow them some much needed movement. Micha moaned into the kiss, his nails digging deeper into his mate’s back and his cock filling again as Damon brushed against his prostate.

Micha wasn’t entirely sure that his body could handle another orgasm but while his brain told him one thing, his other head going in completely the opposite direction. After seven years together, Damon knew how to get a response from his body, and it didn’t take long for Micha's highly sensitive cock to be fully hard once more.

“Touch yourself,” Damon said, his voice low and gruff as he moved slowly in his mate, ensuring to brush against the sensitive bundle of nerves with each delicate thrust that was driving Micha to distraction.

Not even thinking of doing anything else, Micha obeyed; his fingers wrapped around his erection and he began to stroke himself in time with Damon’s movements. It was becoming clear that neither of them were going to last much longer. He could feel Micha’s hand picking up the pace between them and so Damon shifted his hands to Micha’s waist, pumping himself into his mate at a faster pace.

“Yes, Damon, yes,” Micha said a little breathlessly, as he felt his balls pulling up tighter to his body, his forehead resting against the dominant’s shoulder. “I’m so close,” Micha gasped out, speeding up and Damon matching each stroke.

“Come for me, trouble,” Damon told him, knowing that Micha’s orgasm would pull him over. Micha didn’t disappoint; a couple more thrusts into his submissive mate and Micha was clamping down around his erection, coming between them onto their chests.

“YES!” Micha all but screamed, clinging to Damon as though his life depended on it. And Damon couldn’t hold back anymore, emptying himself into his mate. “Alpha,” he heard Micha say, and it was like a bucket of cold water being thrown over him as he pulled back slightly to stare at his mate.

“What?” Damon asked, only not pulling back any further because he was beginning to knot inside his mate. He was in a state of shock, unable to believe that Micha, his beautiful, wonderful mate, had called out for someone else during sex. It was a huge knock to Damon’s ego that was for sure.  

“Alpha, Fenrir,” Micha said again, burying his head in the crook of Damon’s neck and pointing over the dominant's shoulder, his breathing uneven as he struggled to catch his breath, his lungs demanding oxygen.

Realising that his mate was trying to explain, Damon turned to look over his shoulder to where Micha was pointing. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or annoyed to see his best friend standing there, but at least Micha had a good reason for what he had said and his mate had not been thinking about the Alpha while they were having sex.

Fenrir said nothing but turned and headed off in another direction a few seconds later, completely unfazed by what he had seen. It took at least twice that time for Damon to process what had just happened, but when he did he couldn’t keep from laughing.

“It’s not funny,” Micha insisted, hitting him on the shoulder; although the submissive seemed to be having trouble keeping from smiling in amusement too.

“It’s a little funny,” Damon said, leaning down and kissing his mate, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss.

“I’m so telling Harry that Fenrir saw us having sex,” Micha said with a smirk.  “Just so I can see his reaction,” he explained, when Damon looked confused.

“Can we not talk about Harry while I am inside you,” Damon requested with a scowl, feeling a little possessive of his mate and not liking that he was talking of anyone else, not even Harry who was practically his son. It had been horrible enough to hear Micha call out for the Alpha as they had climaxed.

Wrapping Micha up more securely in his arms, Damon sat up, supporting his mate’s body and taking Micha with him as he manoeuvred their positions a little; the submissive’s arms were around his neck and the movement drove the knot deeper, causing Micha to moan happily. They shifted around until they were both comfortable, Micha sitting straddling Damon.

“Okay, sure,” Micha agreed, grabbing the chocolate sauce. “But in that case, it is my turn,” he added, squeezing some on to his mate’s chest, the feeling of the large male knotted inside of him spurring him on. It was hard to believe that once upon a time he had been a little scared of this; intimacy had scared him a little but now he was scared to be without it and without his dominant mate.

Bending his head at a slightly awkward angle, Micha began to lick and suckle at the sweet syrup that dribbled down Damon’s chest, savouring every moment, loving the mix of sweet chocolate and sweat slicked skin. “Mhmm, tasty,” Micha said, looking up at his mate as he licked his lips.

“And you claim that Charlie gets his cheekiness from me,” Damon said with an amused chuckle; they both knew that their son’s troublemaking streak had come from multiple influences and was hugely encouraged by Clayton.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Micha said with mock innocent smile, as he added more chocolate sauce to Damon’s neck and began to lick it off. He began lapping it up with vigour, suckling at the exposed skin, delighted with himself when he turned the small area a reddish purple.

“Sure you don’t, trouble,” Damon said with a roll of his eyes, revelling in the sensations that his mate was lavishing on him.

Damon suddenly grabbed the underside of Micha’s thighs to lift him up, shuffling backwards off the rock onto his own two feet. The action caused Micha to put his arms around his mate’s neck, his legs wrapping around Damon’s waist. He groaned wantonly as the movement drove the formed knot directly into Micha’s prostate once more.

“You like that, trouble?” Damon asked smugly.

“Merlin, yes,” he said, gasping to maintain his self control, knowing that his body wouldn’t let him come again. “Love you, Marshmallow.”

“Love you too, trouble,” he said, pressing a sweet kiss to Micha’s forehead, then to his temple and finally his lips. “Were you serious about not being sure if you took the potion?” Damon asked quietly.

Micha looked mildly alarmed at that. “Damn, yeah, I… I don’t remember,” he said honestly, looking worried. They were always kept busy and on their toes taking care of Charlie and so he hadn’t been keeping track of when he was supposed to take it next. “I can never remember when to take it and Harry told me to tell him when I needed it and he’d make it for me… I guess I forgot and…”

“Calm, trouble,” Damon said, kissing Micha’s lips to quieten his encroaching panic. “It’s alright,” he assured him.

“You’re not mad at me?” Micha asked, looking at his mate with concern.

“Mad at you?” Damon asked. “Of course I’m not mad. I love Charlie and I will love any and all children you give me,” he told him with certainty. “I’d rather we talk about adding to them first but I’m not upset; if it happens, it happens.”

“We can name it after the chocolate sauce brand or something,” Micha asked, looking around in search of where he had discarded the chocolate sauce, looking for inspiration for baby names.

“We don’t even know if you will get pregnant, so let’s wait and see before you start naming our second born,” Damon said with slight amusement as he stilled his mate who was searching for the chocolate sauce. Damon had a horrible feeling that the brand name for the sauce was something horrific like Hershey and there was no way he was calling any child of theirs Hershey.

“I feel like I should be panicking,” Micha said, a sense of calm washing over him. He honestly didn’t feel worried at all, though it might have had something to do with the fact that he was encompassed with his mate’s scent, the dominant buried deep inside him, locked in his embrace.

“I do remember your reaction last time, you do see calmer this time,” Damon said, impressed at how relaxed Micha seemed to be. He remembered Micha's reaction when he found out he was pregnant with Charlie all too clearly and the minor freak out he had had.

“I can’t promise I will stay this calm if I really am, though,” Micha said honestly as he placed a soft kiss on Damon’s lips. If truth be told, the idea hadn’t sunk in yet… he might be pregnant with their second. Charlie was a handful, would they even be able to cope with another Charlie?

“Micha… if you are… do you want this baby?” Damon asked with seriousness. He needed to know the headspace that his mate was in, so that he would be able to predict the rate of panic that he would have to deal with later when it sunk in that they might be having another one.

Micha thought for a moment, wanting to really think about the answer; Charlie was three and a half now and it seemed like a good age gap between children. He loved their son and he had always wanted a big family. Harry had just had James and, even with the complications of his birth, was coping surprisingly well; Micha didn’t see why they wouldn’t too. “Yeah, I guess I do,” he said with a smile.

“And if you’re not…?” Damon queried, wanting to know where he stood. He didn’t want to get his hopes up that they would be trying for another and then for Micha to change his mind if they found out that he wasn’t pregnant from this time.

“Can we try for another one?” Micha asked smiling, really liking the idea of having a second child with the man he loved. He honestly hadn’t thought about it much before but as he realised that he would be disappointed if he wasn't, he began to think that it was something that he really wanted.

“Another baby with you? I would love nothing more,” Damon said, grinning like a mad man as he pulled Micha down for a kiss, one hand at the back of his head so to ravish his submissive mate properly.

“Maybe next time though, without the unexpected audience,” Micha joked as their kiss broke, laughing a little as Damon continued to kiss his way across the top his chest, licking up some of the remaining chocolate that he could reach.

“Perhaps I can also suggest that we don’t name any of our children after the brand name of chocolate sauce,” Damon muttered as he ravished attention on every inch of skin that he could reach in the position that they were in.

“What about the whipped cream that we didn’t get around to using? Can I use that as inspiration for baby names?” Micha teased, feeling the knot inside of him begin to lessen and feeling a little sad. He loved these moments after sex where they were knotted together, cuddling and talking, he never wanted them to end.

“No, trouble,” Damon said with a laugh. He could feel the knot easing off too but he wasn’t ready to pull out of his mate just yet; he loved being inside of his submissive just as much as Micha enjoyed feeling him there. Instinctively, Damon’s arms tightened around his mate, not wanting to let him go.

“How long do you think we can stay here?” Micha asked, nuzzling into his mate.

“Long enough for round two,” Damon said, grinning wickedly. “If you’re up for it, that is,” he added, a hint of a challenge glittering in his grey eyes. The chocolate was almost all gone but they had a whole, unused can of squirty cream to have some fun with.

“You want to go again?” Micha asked, his amethyst eyes going wide in shock. His cock was painfully sensitive, he wasn’t sure that he would even be able to get hard again let alone climax.

“I want to enjoy my alone time with my mate, uninterrupted,” Damon said grinning. “I want to lick cream and chocolate off every inch of him and make love to him so much that he can’t walk,” he added before leaning very close so that he was whispering in his mate’s ear. “And I’m going to make sure that you’re pregnant before we go back to the clearing.”

This sent a shiver of longing down Micha’s spine. The way Damon was touching him and the thought of him licking more delicious food products from his body had his cock starting to twitch with interest, something he thought would not be possible after two earth shattering orgasms.

“I’m more worried about you,” Micha said cheekily. “You are a lot older than me, after all; I’m surprised you have the energy.”

“Wrong thing to say, trouble,” Damon said with an amused smirk. “I’ll show you who has the energy.”

FGHP

Damon, true to his word, had to carry Micha back to the clearing after round two of lovemaking where they had used up the entire can of squirty cream; though they had to make a detour to the stream first, to clean off the cream and chocolate residue, they were also remarkably hot and sweaty considering it was March.

Fenrir was stood by the fire, the tiny James in his arms. The infant looked miniscule in comparison to his father, who was rocking his son delicately in his arms. James was a lot smaller than Toby had ever been and a lot more fragile. However, the Alpha could smell that he would be a strong dominant just like his brother.

Harry was asleep, curled around Charlie and Toby, a protective arm across the two youngsters, the three of them snuggled under a thick hide to keep them warm. Judging by the look of him, Harry needed the sleep; James was not an easy child to settle and it was only when it had been brought to Fenrir’s attention earlier in the day, that Harry hadn’t slept for forty-eight hours straight, he had demanded his little mate sleep.

Now, however, the Alpha was starting to realise why it was that Harry had not been sleeping. Whenever you lay James down he would cry, if you sat down with him, he would cry, in fact if you did anything that didn’t include standing and jiggling him gently then he would cry. The tiny baby seemed to need constant contact or he simply wasn’t happy.   

“Can I try something?” Micha asked hesitantly, as they approached the large Alpha and Damon placed him back on his own, rather shaky, two legs.

“Anything,” Fenrir said desperately. Micha motioned to the Alpha for him to hand over James; reluctantly, the Alpha did just that. Then, moving over to where Harry, Charlie and Toby were still sleeping, Micha carefully and gently, so not to wake the sleeping toddlers, manoeuvred them so that there was a small space between them. He then carefully settled James in between his brother and Charlie.

Instantly James seemed to still, his arms stopped waving frantically all over the place and he stopped grizzling. The tiny baby reached out, touching at Toby curiously, his green eyes unfocused but clearly watching his older brother.

“How?” Fenrir asked, clearly impressed with the way Micha had been able to sooth the unhappy James almost instantly.

“Mother’s instinct,” Damon said, with unabashed pride in his mate.

“Then why couldn’t Harry?” Fenrir demanded with slight irritation.

“With everything he has been through these last few weeks…” Micha said, with a sad expression of sympathy on his face as he looked at Harry.

“It’s understandable,” Damon assured the Alpha. “It will get better in time.”

Fenrir looked to his little mate; he knew Harry loved their boys, he was a dedicated mother but everyone could see how much he had been struggling. No one could blame him either; considering everything, the young man was doing remarkably well.

“It’s late,” Fenrir grunted, watching as James closed his eyes, yawning widely, a little hand closing around one of Toby’s fingers.

“Yeah, I am pretty exhausted,” Micha agreed with a yawn, before turning to smirk at his mate. “And somebody wore me out,” he added quietly.

“Seeing it was enough, I don’t want to hear about it,” Fenrir said somewhat unhappily as he sat down on Harry’s other side.

Micha wasn’t sure what to do, he didn’t want to not sleep close to Charlie but he didn’t want to encroach on the Alpha pair’s territory either.

“Just lie down,” Fenrir growled softly at Micha, only mildly annoyed at the hesitation as he gathered up several more hides for them all to use from close by. It was mid-winter and he wasn’t going to let any of them, least of all the pups, be cold.

“You’re sure?” Micha asked still unsure even with the Alpha’s permission. Fenrir glared at the submissive and simply threw several hides in his direction, which Damon caught and began to arrange them around their son.

Micha lay down first, mimicking Harry by curling around his little boy. Damon took up a similar position to Fenrir, snuggling into his younger mate from behind, however he snaked his arm around Micha’s waist, a hand resting on his belly. It sent tingles through Micha’s body to think that there was potentially life growing there once again.

FGHP

(Earlier that day)

It had been a long boring day, and he really hated his job. Simon was definitely ready for the end of his nine hour shift; just one hour to go.

"Evening, sir," he said, as a strikingly handsome, large, brown haired man stepped up to his till and placed several items on the checkout belt.

"Evening," the man replied with a happy smile, already pulling money out of his pocket.

Simon looked back down at the three items the man was buying, to start scanning them through; chocolate sauce, squirty cream and lube. "Looks like you have a fun night planned," he said with a laugh. "Room for one more?" he asked cheekily.

The large man laughed. "I think my boyfriend would be a little upset if I brought you back home too," he said happily.

"Can't blame a man for trying," Simon said with a shrug as he scanned the three items through and totalled them up. The man handed over money before he had even read the total.

"Keep the change," the man told him, as he hastily grabbed the three items, throwing them in a bag and all but running for the exit.

"Have fun," Simon called out after him, a laugh on his lips. Okay, so he had to admit, occasionally there were customers that made his job that little bit more enjoyable. "Evening Ma'am," he said as he turned to his next customer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Leave a comment and let us know. :-D


	25. Forgotten Romance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Micha's forgotten past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for a very special fan of the story, Charmee, Happy (late) birthday, please enjoy!

Fragmented Soul: The Furry Bits  
Forgotten Romance

Mid-September 1986

Micha had long ago walked his shoes to scraps of fabric and rubber. Never in his life had he walked so far or felt so alone. Everyone he loved was either dead or no longer wanted anything to do with him. Exiled from his pack for his brother’s mistake, he had nowhere to go; he was all alone in the world. 

His feet were cut and bleeding as he stumbled gracelessly along the road. He had no idea where he was or where he was going; it had been days since he had eaten anything. If it hadn’t have been for the full moon a few days previously then he wouldn’t have eaten in weeks. As it was he was lucky to have clothing at all after his transformation, and that was only due to some forethought on his part. 

He missed his pack but no one more than his mother; she was the one who he missed the  most. He missed their talks and braiding her hair, he missed her smell too and the kind way in which she would talk to him. It had been months since Micha had had any human contact at all. 

The sound of an approaching vehicle startled him, making him shy away from the road that he was walking along, closer to the undergrowth. It had been pure luck that he had stumbled upon the road in the middle of the forest. Micha had been hoping that it would lead him to some form of town where he might find food and shelter for a short while. 

There hadn’t been any cars along here in days, clearly the road was not a popular one and Micha had no idea where it went from or to. He wasn’t sure what to make of the oncoming vehicle, on one hand he craved people, hoping that someone would find it in their heart to help him; however, on the other hand, he was weary that whoever it was might want to do him more harm. 

He had witnessed someone he had grown up with murder his mother, Micha didn’t know who he could trust anymore. Tristan, his Alpha, a kind and wonderful man, had spared his life but exiled him to live a half life. He was worthless, a shell of a werewolf and maybe it would have been better to simply die with his family instead of out here, alone and afraid. 

The car steadily came into view; it was a beat up red thing that seemed to be in a bad way given the awful racket it was making and was probably older than Micha by the looks of things. Micha stopped to watch it pass, but it didn’t; instead it slowed and then came to a halt not a few feet ahead of him, something that startled the young submissive greatly. 

For a moment Micha considered running. It would be easy to dart off into the woodland next to the road but, after a few seconds of panicked thought, his curiosity and need for human contact won out. Micha peered at the man inside, not sure of what to make of him, and as the stranger got out of the car, Micha was able to recognise him as a wizard from the robes he was wearing. 

Though the robes the man wore were a little odd. Most wizarding robes were brightly coloured with outlandish patterns all over them, but the strange man was all in black with a strange insignia of a W embroidered on the left breast. As the man came closer Micha could see an arrow going through the letter; it was nothing like anything he had ever seen before. 

“Hi,” the man said, addressing him in soft and gentle tones, causing Micha to look up from the symbol to the man’s face; the man had light brown hair, soft green eyes and a fair amount of stubble on his chin, he was handsome that was for sure. “Are you alright?” he asked, looking at Micha with a mountain of curiosity. He had been careful not to get too close to the young man, not wanting to startle him at all. 

Micha nodded mutely, his voice lost at the apparent kindness of this stranger. He had no idea how to even begin to explain everything that had happened to him and answer the question the man had put to him. 

“It’s just…” the man began, looking Micha up and down, “I couldn’t help but notice that you aren’t wearing any shoes.” 

“I…” Micha began, glancing down at his own bare feet, his voice coming hoarse and croaky. “I… lost them.” He felt his cheeks flame in embarrassment as he glanced back up again, knowing how stupid he probably sounded admitting to losing his shoes. It wasn’t as if he could tell the stranger that he had walked so far and so much that they had literally fallen off his feet. 

“Where are you going, maybe I can give you a lift?” the stranger offered, there was pity in his voice that Micha could hear. Normally he wouldn’t have wanted to be pitied but he would take what he could get; if pity was what gave him a ride to somewhere he could get a warm bed for the night and food then he would take it. 

“I don’t have anywhere to go, not really,” he admitted, meeting the man’s eyes with his own wide purple ones. It wasn’t as if he could say where he was going when he had no idea where he was or what direction he was going in. Geography had never been his strong suit. He thought that the best course of action was probably to just tell this man the truth and see if he could help. “I don’t have any money, I just… could you take me somewhere that I could get a free meal, maybe somewhere to sleep?” 

“Judging by the state of you, you need more than a hot meal and a bed,” the stranger said with a frown. “Maybe I should take you to the hospital.” 

“No,” Micha said quickly, shaking his head in panic, “no hospitals! Those muggle ones scare me and I really don’t want to go to St Mungos either,” he explained hastily when the stranger’s frown deepened. He might not have been smart but Micha knew that his kind were not exactly welcomed into wizarding society. St Mungo’s might have been obligated to treat him but they wouldn’t have been nice about it. 

Felicity had trained as a medi-witch at the wizarding hospital only to be fired rather abruptly when they had discovered what she was. Though thinking about her made him think about his family and his pack and it made him feel sick to his stomach so he quickly pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind.

“So you are a wizard then,” the stranger said with a kind of half smile, “that changes things slightly. What are you doing out here, all alone? Do you even have a wand?”

Micha shook his head, a sad expression on his face. He really had absolutely nothing to his name, the little he had owned had been lost when he had been exiled. 

“What happened to your wand?” the stranger asked, looking even more worried, something that Micha hadn’t thought possible. He really hadn’t wanted to worry this man but there was no good in lies or half truths.

“I ran away from… it’s complicated,” Micha told him, “but I left my wand behind. I didn’t think to grab it when… it’s complicated,” Micha said again, not knowing how to explain, images of Jared snapping his mother's neck lingered in the forefront of his mind as he struggled not to cry. 

“You look like you should still be in school. How old are you?” the stranger asked, frowning again, not looking too happy. He surveyed the blond hair and large purple eyes with sadness; the boy in front of him just looked so young, so innocent, so lost. 

“Sixteen,” Micha said softly. 

“Are you meant to be at Hogwarts?” the stranger questioned, knowing that the students had returned to the castle for the new school year just a few weeks earlier. “Will someone be missing you there?” 

“No, my Mum…” Micha told him, “she was teaching me at home…” His voice trailed off, his throat felt dry from both the tears that threatened and dehydration, and his heart ached with sadness. “She was until…” he tried to go on, his eyes lowering to the ground, staring as his filthy, bare and aching feet, but at that moment it all got too much for the young submissive and he broke down into tears. 

He let out a heart wrenching sob, as his hands came up to cover his face, his body unable to take any more as he fell to his knees. Exhaustion took over his body and Micha caught a glimpse of Oscar rushing forward to try and catch him as he allowed unconsciousness to claim him. 

FGHP

Micha slowly came awake, confusion encompassing his mind as he struggled to connect what had happened and where he was now. He was surrounded by soft warmth that he had never experienced before. The place smelt strange, slightly stagnant and dusty, but he was beyond comfortable; if it hadn’t have been for his achingly full bladder and growling stomach then he would have liked to stay exactly where he was. 

He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, blinking his eyes open and taking in the unfamiliar sight of the ceiling above him. He was trying to remember how he had come to be there but the last thing he could remember was the approaching red car and unknown man.

Micha groaned as he resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to actually get up. Stretching and yawning, he sat up in his bed and was momentarily rather alarmed to see the strange man sitting in a rather uncomfortable looking armchair across the room. Judging by the pillow and blanket it had been where he had been sleeping too. “Where am I?” he asked, shuffling back to sit against the headboard, pulling his knees up towards his chest and the blankets around himself. 

“Hotel, about an hour away from where I found you,” the man explained, watching Micha cautiously, glad that the young man seemed to be relatively calm. “How are you feeling?” 

“Umm,” Micha said as he thought about it for a moment; apart from desperately needing to relieve himself and his painfully growling stomach, he actually felt amazing. “Good,” he said honestly, “hungry and I could do with using the bathroom but otherwise good.” 

The stranger laughed, surprisingly delighted by the blunt honesty. “Alright then,” he said with a smile and a nod. “I’m going to go and get us something to eat. The bathroom is in there,” he added his eyes still watching the teenager with curiosity as he pointed to a closed door. “Everything you should need is in there, so take a shower and do whatever you need. Do you have any favourite foods, anything you don’t like?” 

“Umm, no,” Micha said, a little overwhelmed by everything. “Anything will be fine,” he told him truthfully; at this point there was very little he wouldn’t have eaten, no matter how terrible it tasted. 

“Alright, I won’t be long,” the stranger said, getting to his feet and heading to the door. “Oh… umm,” the man said, pausing and turning back to look at the young man in the bed. “My name is Oscar, by the way. I know it’s a little late for that but.. yeah, I thought you should know.” 

“Thank you, Oscar,” Micha said, unable to keep the smile from forming on his face. “I’m Micha,” he added after a few seconds when Oscar continued to stare at him expectantly. 

“Well it’s lovely to meet you, Micha,” Oscar said with a smile before turning and heading out of the hotel room, leaving Micha to get his head around everything. 

FGHP 

Micha waited for a few moments after Oscar left, his mind a whirlwind of new information and confusion. He was in a bed, in a hotel room, in a hotel. He looked over to the door that Oscar had indicated before behind which there was apparently a bathroom, an actual bathroom, something he had never experienced before. He had been born in a werewolf pack in a forest, they had travelled to Tristan’s pack when he was just a baby and that was where they had remained. A bathroom was a luxury that he had never before experienced. 

Carefully extracting himself from the bed, glancing towards the entrance to the room to ensure that he really was alone, Micha edged his way toward the bathroom door. The feeling of carpet beneath his feet was something to marvel at; it was a little rougher than Micha had expected but, despite being old and worn, it felt heavenly in comparison to the harsh concrete that had cut up his feet over the past few days. 

Although the hotel room had many luxuries, most of which were new and strange to Micha, being inside was already starting to bother him a little. The four walls felt as if they were enclosing around him, trapping him like a cage. It was a natural instinct as a werewolf to be out in the open, one that was especially strong in him because he had never been inside before. His entire existence, for the sixteen years of his life, had been in a forest clearing with his family and his pack; he had never known anything different.

Thinking of them, however, was painful. He didn’t want to dwell on thought of the family who had been killed because his older brother was an idiot. He loved Reid dearly but his brother had never been strong enough to kill Tristan. The Alpha of their pack was just so strong and handsome and... Micha broke those thoughts off; Tristan had exiled him to die. Yes, he knew that the Alpha decision, his intervention in that moment, had spared his life but he wasn’t exactly living right now, simply surviving. Though, Micha could admit that things seemed to have taken a turn for the better.

Micha reached out and touched the cold metal of the door handle, pushing on it and almost jumping back in alarm when it clunked down and the door swung open. He knew how these things worked in theory, of course, he wasn’t a complete idiot, but to experience it was quite something else. Pushing against the wood of the door, he let it swing further open, revealing the room beyond and he found himself grateful that Oscar wasn’t there to see the expression of amazement that he couldn’t keep from his face.

The bathroom was a cavern of wondrous things that Micha had never seen or experienced before, and he grinned a little as he stepped into the room. His fingers twitched eagerly as he tried to work out where he wanted to start. He had seen enough pictures in his mother’s books to be able to identify the bath, shower, sink and toilet, and the ache in his bladder made up his mind for him.

Micha gave a sigh of contentment as he relieved himself, though the second he was done his eyes were back to darting around the room, trying to take it all in. The sink was clearly the next essential; his mother had always said that other people might have believed them to be beasts, but that didn’t mean they had to behave like them, and Micha had been raised with a deal of respect for his personal hygiene; more than some of his pack brothers had had anyway. 

Micha tilted his head down as he approached the sink, scowling at the taps before reaching out and prodding at them a little; nothing happened. So he ran his hand over the fixture, sniffing it slightly, something he regretted as the smell of slightly stagnant water and mildew hit him; but as he pulled back the tap turned a little and water began to trickle from it.

A grin broke out on Micha’s face as he realised how it worked. Reaching out again he turned the tap on, actually letting out a little laugh of excitement when the water began to flow freely, and watching it as it flowed away down the drain. He pushed his hands into the water.

“Ouch!” he cried out, pulling his hands back quickly, suddenly alarmed by the unexpectedly hot water. Scowling at the tap that had hurt him he leaned forward and read the writing that was on top of him, giving a small ‘oh’ when he read the word hot, and spotted the word cold on the other.

He grinned again; cold water was definitely more what he was used to and he didn’t know why people used hot water when it hurt so much. Turning off the hot tap and switching to the other one, he joyfully washed his hands, happily squeezing out a huge blob of soap from the bottle on the side. It smelt kind of weird, but the pack had used bottled soap before so it was a little comforting to have something familiar in the midst of so much unknown.

He was proud of himself so far, and so was determined to do as Oscar had suggested and actually have a shower; he inhaled and scrunched up his nose; he really did need to wash. Though the closest he had ever actually come to a shower before was Reid pouring a bucket of water over his head, so he was admittedly a little nervous. His success with the sink had boosted his confidence but the shower looked like it had a lot more complicated fixtures.

Peering out into the bedroom, ensuring that he was still alone, Micha closed the door and rid himself of his clothes. Cautiously he climbed into the bathtub, gripping the side of it tightly when he realised how slippery the surface was, and for a moment he considered just using the taps like the ones on the sink to fill it and just have a bath; however, his curiosity was too much and he had no idea if he would never get another chance to actually try a shower.

Stepping forward, bracing himself against the tiled wall just in case he lost his footing, Micha reached out and turned one of the knobs, just like he had done to make the taps work. Admittedly it did work, though Micha found himself spluttering and coughing as he found himself with water spraying down into his face; thankfully it was neither hot or cold like the taps had been, but actually a rather pleasant temperature he realised, once he was done halfway choking on it.

“Okay, shower, you get points for nearly managing to drown me, but I still made you work, so I think that evens the score,” Micha said with a laugh. He had managed to figure it out all by himself, though he was sure that Reid would have laugh at him; his mother would have been proud of him… and the smile fell from his face at the realisation that he would never be able to tell her about it.

Shaking his head, to try and rid himself of such thoughts he picked up a bottle of soap, emptied some into his hand and focused his attention on the lengthy process of trying to scrub himself clean. 

FGHP

He was grinning like a loon, sat in the middle of the floor, half buried in towels, when the smell of cooked chicken met his nostrils and his stomach growled hungrily, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten in a few days.

So involved in what he had been doing, Micha had not been paying attention to anything else and it seemed that Oscar had returned with food for them. Micha bit his lip as he thought, torn between his desire for food and the warm, clean comfort of the towels around him. Truthfully he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the strange man  who was helping him; he had never expected such generosity from strangers, having been taught that his kind were feared. Though, Micha thought sadly, it wasn’t as if Oscar knew what he was and that was the way he wanted to keep it.

Getting to his feet, Micha discarded the towels into a heap to one side, before turning to look at the filthy clothes, which were little more than rags. Nudity was a natural form for werewolves and in any other circumstances it wouldn’t have bothered him at all, but not in front of this man. They didn’t know each other and Micha couldn’t be sure that he didn’t mean him any harm, despite how nice he had been so far.

Not seeing any alternative, Micha dressed in the ragged and torn clothes that he had been found in; it felt awful putting the grimy, dirt caked clothing back on to his now clean body but he liked the idea of walking out into the room where Oscar was while naked even less.

He took a deep calming breath and pushed open the door, surprised to feel relief upon realising that Oscar was there, sat in his chair again, having laid out the small feast across the desk-turned-vanity-table that ran against one wall. Though once Micha’s eyes had actually taken in the sight of the food he had had to make a conscious effort not to gape at it in shock. 

There was enough food for five, Micha was sure. He was confident that it was more than he could have eaten in several days but it smelt amazing, and even more appealing than it had from the other side of the bathroom door. He could see the cooked chicken that he had smelt from the bathroom; he couldn’t help it when his tongue flicked out to lick at his lips, his mouth salivating in anticipation of sinking his teeth into it.

Fighting the urge to charge at his meal and devour it, Micha instead looked to Oscar, who seemed to be observing him with interest. To feel this heavy gaze upon him made Micha feel hugely uncomfortable; he didn’t like to be watched, much preferring to sink into the background and be unnoticed. However, as he avoided the gaze of the man who appeared to be helping him, Micha caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and he finally understood why Oscar was staring.

He was a freak.

He might have been clean now but that meant very little. His blond hair was longer than it had ever been before, hanging to just below his shoulders and still sticking up in every direction possible, making him look like he had some form of spiky halo on top of his head. His eyes were an almost unnatural shade of purple, just like his mother’s had been. This was perhaps the only thing about himself that he liked as he gazed upon his reflection but only because they belonged to his mother. Aside from that, it was just another thing that made him different, made him weird.

He stepped forward, his full attention on the mirror and his reflection there. At least he wasn’t scrawny, he supposed; he had spent the last few years in the pack training, trying to keep up with Reid, Jared and Tristan, not wanting to be left behind and thought of as weaker than them. Because of this he had a fair bit of muscle to him, though he was starting to lose that now with the lack of meals. The lack of sleep was also taking it’s toll on him, and even not being familiar with his own reflection he could see the heavy dark bags beneath his eyes. He looked awful.

“You’re looking at your reflection as if you’ve never seen it before,” Oscar said, the corning of his mouth twitching into a half smile, his tone teasing. Micha snorted in amusement; if only Oscar knew how right he was. “Wait…,” Oscar said, his eyes widening in surprise. “You have seen your reflection before, right?” he asked, getting to his feet, approaching Micha and putting a hand on the teenager’s arm.

Micha turned from the mirror to look up at Oscar and felt his cheeks heat up under the excruciating gaze of the man. “No, not really,” the submissive admitted shyly. He hated that he was such a freak in both looks and the way he was; he had never wanted to be different, no matter how much his mother had told him he was just special, and now Oscar was staring at him, seeming to be utterly astounded by the fact that Micha had never been in front of a mirror before today. 

Micha had always known that he wouldn’t fit into the real world; he had honestly never cared before he had been forced to leave Tristan’s pack. He had been content to live his life in his pack with his family and his friends. He had never wanted to be exiled and venture into the world to confront what he had never wanted to know. It was a large and scary world to Micha and he hated it.

“Wow,” Oscar said with a low whistle, “that is…”

“You don’t have to rub it in,” Micha said with a huff, standing up straight, crossing his arms over his chest and turning to glare at Oscar. However, his righteous indignation was ruined slightly when his stomach gave a rather loud growl. The smell of food was tempting Micha in but he refused to eat, not until he had figured out where he stood with this handsome stranger.

“I’m not,” Oscar said quickly, holding his hands up in surrender, looking to right himself before he caused offence. He had never been very good at reigning in what he was saying, his mouth tended to speak before he completely thought things through and he hadn’t appreciated how touchy the young man he was helping would be. He didn’t know what to make of this unusual teenager.

Oscar couldn’t help the fact that he was practically salivating over how delicious Micha looked.  It was amazing seeing the teenager clean and practically sparkling with a renewed life, which most definitely hadn’t been there when he’d first seen the young teenager stumbling down the road. However, Oscar was well aware that, at sixteen, Micha was seven years his junior. It really wasn’t going to happen, not ever.

All thoughts of the two of them together had to be quashed and quickly. It was taking all sorts of more disturbing thoughts to keep his dick from hardening beneath his robes. Micha was glaring at him, arms crossed cutely across his chest and Oscar couldn’t help but smile at him and how adorable he looked.

“Sorry,” Oscar said, trying to coax Micha out of his shell a little. “I didn’t mean to offend you; I was just a little surprised, is all,” he explained gently, studying the teenager carefully, trying to gage his reactions. “I wasn’t sure what you liked,” he said, wanting to change the subject, gesturing to the meal he had laid out, “or how hungry you are but please help yourself to food. But can I ask one thing of you first?”

Micha looked somewhat suspicious at this request, but he still nodded a little hesitantly. “Maybe,” he hedged, not willing to agree to anything without first knowing what it was. Having an elder brother had taught him well enough to know that it was wise not to agree to anything unless you knew exactly what it was that you were agreeing to.

“I’m only asking that you get changed first,” Oscar said with a chuckle, unable to help but find Micha’s attitude endearing. “I bought some clothes for you,” he explained, smiling kindly, wanting to put Micha at ease. “Those clothes are hanging off you and you have no shoes, not to mention that they smell a little ripe.” 

Micha huffed indignantly; he was more than aware that the scent coming from his clothes was less than desirable right now. He looked down at his torn jeans that were caked with all sorts of dirt and grime, they were not even close to the colour that they should have been, the light denim having been turned into a dark grey, almost black in places. His t-shirt, which had once been one of his brother’s, before Reid had grown out of it, was now torn in places, the colouring having faded and changed, the logo on the front wasn’t even decipherable.

It wasn’t as if he was particularly attached to these clothes, at least not anymore. In the first few days they had been all he’d had, they had smelt of his mother and his pack; they had provided comfort to him when he had been close to tears and wanted nothing more than to give up. However the comforting scents that had once lingered upon the fabric were long gone, there was no reason to hang on to them any more.

Admitting that possibly a change of clothes would be a good idea and seeing no reason to object, Micha nodded slowly. He would have sold his soul for a pair of shoes and socks a few days ago, if for no other reason to stop his feet from getting so cut up and bloodied on the asphalt of the roads he was walking.

“You really got me clothes?” Micha asked sceptically; he didn’t know what to make of the idea that this stranger had spent money on him, was getting him food and buying him clothes. He was utterly astounded at the kindness of this man, who in truth he still barely knew.

“I did,” Oscar confirmed happily, grabbing a bag that was by the chair he had been sitting in and handing it over. Micha ignored his instinct to back away from the man approaching him with a rucksack in hand, standing his ground. “I had to guess your size,” Oscar told him, “but I’m pretty good at that. There are shoes as well.”

“Why are you doing this for me?” Micha asked, unable to keep the question back any longer. It absolutely baffled him that someone he didn’t know was being so amazingly kind to him. He had never expected for anyone to help him as much as this man had.

“There is something about you, Micha,” Oscar said honestly. He saw no point in lying to the teenager; the poor boy had been in a bad way when he had found him but there was still something about him that had drawn Oscar in. “I saw you and every part of me wanted to help you. There was no way that I could have just left you there.”

“Oh,” Micha said as he finally accepted the bag of clothes being offered to him. He peered into the bag and inhaled gently; they smelt new and he could see the tags still on them. Micha had never owned anything brand new before, even the rucksack that they were being held in looked to be new. 

He looked up at Oscar’s smiling face, wanting to say thank you, but finding the words caught in his throat and looking back down at the bag in his arms again. It was a novel thing to have anything bought for him; werewolves were not exactly employable and packs always struggled for money, they had to steal most of what they had. This was an amazing gift to Micha, who had lived his life in his brother’s hand-me-downs, which had always been far too big for his smaller frame.

“You seem surprised,” Oscar observed, speaking carefully and gently, ensuring that he fought his urge to step closer to the teenager, keeping an arm’s distance between the two of them.

“I’m not used to being noticed,” Micha said honestly as he hugged the bag to his chest. He was unable to look in Oscar’s eyes, his cheeks were scarlet with embarrassment and he honestly didn’t know what to do with himself.

“I find it hard to believe that no one has ever noticed you before,” Oscar said as he edged forward a little, unable to help himself. Micha’s innocence was endearing and it was drawing him in.

“No one. Never,” Micha said, his voice a whisper as he risking glancing up and gasped as he realised how close Oscar was to him. His breathing accelerated, his heart racing as he met the taller man’s soft green eyes and held his gaze.

Oscar brought up a hand, touching at Micha’s cheek with a gentle tenderness that sent a pleasurable shiver up the teenager’s spine. Oscar stroked the pad of his thumb across the soft skin of Micha’s cheek, wanting nothing more than to lean forward and to press his lips against the soft, rose pink lips. It took all he had to resist the urge.

“Go and change,” Oscar said firmly, his voice coming out huskier than he had wanted it to, his arousal was glaringly obvious; if they got any closer Micha was going to feel it. He had never been more grateful for his robes before in his life, even if he did detest what they stood for.

Micha nodded his head but didn’t move, too transfixed by the stunning green of Oscar’s eyes to look away from the man. The soft touch that Oscar was delivering to him was sending chills through him. Micha had had only one kiss before today and that one had confused him no end.

Tristan had never explained that kiss and now he would never get the chance to. Not that he would have done; Micha was sure that it had been a mistake, something that Tristan had had to get out of his system. The Alpha couldn’t have possibly have felt anything for him, if he had then he would never have exiled Micha from the pack.

Micha had to push all thoughts of Tristan from his mind, he had to focus on the here and now, and that meant Oscar. “I should change,” Micha said softly, not making any movement to do this. 

“You should,” Oscar reiterated, still not making any move to encourage this; he was enjoying the closeness with Micha far too much for that. All thoughts that this shouldn’t happen left his mind in a second. Seeing the teenager like this was beyond tempting and to have a bed so close to them… it was taking so much strength not to kiss him, to lead him to the bed and to utterly ravish him.

Micha nodded his head; his breath was coming in short sharp bursts, his heart beating so fast that he swore Oscar would be able to hear it in his chest, despite clutching the backpack to him. “I’m going now,” the sixteen year old said, meaning to motion back to the bathroom but not actually doing so.

“Yes,” Oscar said his voice deep with arousal. Unable to resist any longer and seeing that Micha seemed just as caught up in the moment, he took a deep breath, pushing forward and finally pressing his lips to Micha’s. 

It was clear that Micha was not exactly experienced in such things and he allowed Oscar to take full control. The older of the two ran his tongue over Micha’s lips, seeking entrance; the werewolf gasped at the sensation and Oscar took the chance, pushing his tongue into the sixteen year old’s mouth.

It was in this moment that the submissive lost his inhibitions, just reveling in the sensations and experimentally began to use his tongue to massage against Oscar’s; Micha was not sure he was doing, but Oscar seemed to be enjoying it as much as he was, so he continued. It was exhilarating for them both as their kiss deepened. 

It took a lot for the older of the two men to get a grip of himself and step away, both of them breathless and unable to look away from each other. “Change, then we eat,” Oscar said determinedly, coughing deliberately when his voice came out a bit croaky. If he didn’t take charge of the situation then he was sure that it was all going to get rather out of hand, even more so than it had already.

Micha nodded mutely, not able to even form words as he hastily scurried off towards to bathroom, backpack still clutched to his chest as if it might protect him. He had no idea what had just happened but he knew that it felt right; it felt more than that, it felt absolutely amazing.

FGHP

It didn’t take Micha long to get changed, though he had had a painful moment of hesitation when he went to throw away the ruined clothes. Even without the scent of his family on them they were all that he had left of his former life; however, in a moment of determination he threw them in the bin in the bedroom, Oscar watching him curiously. 

The older of the two said nothing about it though; neither of them mentioned the kiss either, the two of them sitting down to eat together.  As a sign of respect, the wolf in Micha had made him wait until Oscar had started eating first, showing his submission to the more dominant male. Oscar might not have been a werewolf but that didn’t matter to Micha; he was a submissive and therefore it was natural for him to submit to more dominant men.

Oscar was slightly confused by Micha’s hesitance, but picked up a chicken leg and started eating it, hoping to encourage the younger man to start eating too. Once he had started eating, Micha quickly managed to devour almost two thirds of the food that Oscar had brought for them. He felt a little piggish, but he hadn’t even realised how hungry he had been until he had started eating.

Sated and happy, Micha fell back against the bed, his stomach protruding wonderfully, he ran his hands over his belly, letting out a low satisfied sigh. It had been a long while since he had been so full and in his mind there was no better feeling.

Oscar watched Micha with a keen eye, feeling happy that he had been able to make Micha look the way he did right now. The only thing that could have been better, in his opinion, was the same blissed out expression while the teenager was beneath him, writhing with pleasure and begging for more. The thought alone was enough to make him hard, but he remained on the uncomfortable chair, simply watching as Micha lay sprawled across the double bed.

“So what happens now?” Micha asked, turning on to his side and propping up his head with his hand, his purple eyes focusing on Oscar, the question causing a worried expression to form on his young face.

“What do you want to happen?” Oscar hedged, unsure what it was that Micha meant with his question. It was rather open ended and could have meant any number of things. All Oscar could think about was the kiss that they had shared; it was a memory that was burned into his mind but he had put it there, not wanting to forget how perfect the sixteen year old had felt pressed against him in such a way.

“I don’t know,” Micha said honestly, shrugging his shoulders. The day before all he had wanted was a chance to wash, fresh clothes and shoes and a decent meal; now he had had all of those he felt at a bit of a loss as to what he wanted. 

One thing he was sure of was that he was really starting to like Oscar, despite not knowing if he could fully trust him. Micha wasn’t about to spill his deepest, darkest secrets to the man however, so the young submissive didn’t see a problem with simply spending a little time with him. Judging by the kiss the feeling of attraction between them was mutual.

“Well...” Oscar began somewhat hesitantly, not wanting to force Micha’s hand in this choice. “This room is paid for another two weeks so you can stay here,” he said gently, watching Micha for what his reaction might be. “If you want me to stay with you then I will,” Oscar assured him, “but equally, if you want me to leave I will.” He had no intention of forcing his presence on Micha; he wanted to spend more time with him, but he would let it be Micha’s choice.

“Why would you just leave?” Micha asked, a little taken aback by this and actually sitting up on the end of the bed. “I mean… you helped me,” he pointed out. “Don’t you want anything in return for everything you’ve given me?”

Micha truly believed that there had to be a catch. His father had drilled it into both him and his brother rather forcefully, and on occasion violently, that nothing was ever free in this world, along with several other lessons that they had been forced to learn. If Oscar was giving him all of this then there had to be a price for it; the submissive was a little scared of that thought because he truly had nothing to give in return.

“I don’t want anything in return, Micha,” Oscar said firmly and honestly. There were several things that he wanted from Micha, of course, but he wanted the sixteen year old to give them to him willingly, not because he thought that he owed him. The kiss that they had shared had not been in payment and Oscar never wanted Micha to think that way at all.

“But with everything you’ve done for me…” Micha began to protest.

“No, Micha,” Oscar said sternly, cutting off the younger male quickly. He wouldn’t listen to him degrade himself in such a way, it just wasn’t something that he would be able to stomach. “I helped you because I wanted to, not because I wanted anything in return.”

“And… and if I want to repay your kindness?” Micha asked shyly, his cheeks tinged with pink as he said this, struggling to meet Oscar’s eyes. Clearly the teenager was not accustomed to being so forward and Oscar found it rather endearing.

“I don’t expect you to, Micha,” Oscar reiterated, wanting to make it perfectly clear that he expected nothing in return, despite Micha seeming to be rather determined to give him something back. Judging by the tone of voice the teenager was using, Oscar had a pretty good idea of exactly what the younger man had in mind.

“I know you don’t,” Micha said, scooting forward so that he was perched on the very end of the bed, so that the two of them were closer. Their knees were only inches apart and it would take very little to close the distance between them and steal a kiss. However, neither made this move, both too busy staring into the other’s eyes as they spoke.

“Anything that happens,” Oscar began, his voice deeper and heavy with arousal, as he shuffled forward so that he was sat on the edge of his chair, his knees brushing against Micha’s, “I want it to happen because you want it to happen, not because you think you owe me some kind of debt.”

“I do owe you a debt,” Micha said honestly. Oscar opened his mouth to say something but before he could be interrupted, he carried on, “But that isn’t why I want this.”

“Why do you want this?” Oscar asked curiously, wanting to hear Micha’s motivations spoken out loud, wanting confirmation that the teenager really wanted this to happen.

“Because you’re nice, I like you,” Micha said with a shrug as he leant forward a little, his werewolf sense of smell picking up the husky scent of man from the person he really hoped was his soon to be lover. “And because you saved me,” he finished with a soft smile.

With those final words spoken, Micha pushed himself off from the bed just enough to close the remaining distance between them and press his lips against Oscar’s, parting them and allowing Oscar to deepen the kiss. The older man’s hand going to the back of Micha’s head almost instantly, getting to his feet and walking them both backwards, smiling against Micha’s mouth as the two of them fell back on to the bed.

The young submissive parted his legs and allowed Oscar to settle between them, their groins rubbing together, erections straining in their confines. Their kiss never broke, instead it became more ravenous between the pair, hands roaming feverishly, desperate to touch each other as much as possible.

“Off,” Oscar grunted unhappily, breaking the kiss as he began tugging at Micha’s t-shirt. He didn’t want to tear the new clothes off if he could avoid it but if Micha didn’t hurry up and strip then that is exactly what was going to happen. On any other occasion Oscar would have prided himself on being a patient man, but not today, not when it came to Micha.

The sixteen year old nodded, slightly breathless pulling the fabric up and wriggling until it had bundled up enough to pull over his head, exposing the pale, delicate skin of his upper body. His heart was hammering in his chest from the combination of excitement and nerves. 

Oscar sat back a little, drinking in the sight as he unbuttoned his robes; Micha watching him with wide eyes, completely mesmerised by the sight before him, as Oscar continued to undress himself unable to tear his gaze away from the nimble fingers as they undid each button with agonizing slowness. Oscar’s eyes roamed over Micha’s exposed flesh as he shrugged his robes off his shoulders and discarded it over the side of the bed. He was so eager, but wanted to take his time with Micha, knowing that it was likely the sixteen year old’s first time.

Oscar didn’t need to ask if this was the case or not, he knew from the way Micha had kissed him for the first time. The teenager was so inexperienced and it sent a thrill through him to know that he would be the first man to claim Micha and hopefully, if he had his way, the last too. Micha was utterly perfect, so beautiful, and Oscar wanted to make sure that the younger man remained his.

“You can touch me, Micha,” Oscar said, his voice deep and heavy as he granted the younger man permission.

Micha reached out, sliding beneath the black fabric of the top that Oscar was wearing before tentatively moving his hands upwards, pushing the fabric up, exposing the marvellous muscled chest for Micha to see. Oscar pulled it off over his head, leaving both dressed only from the waist down and barefoot. Oscar was a lot more defined than Micha had first thought he would be and he felt practically pudgy in comparison. The submissive tentatively reached forward again, his fingers ghosting over the defined abs, trailing softly up towards stiff pink nipples, which gave Micha the urge to lean up and take into his mouth. 

“Do it,” Oscar instructed, seeing the look of wanting in the teenager’s eyes and wanting to encourage it as much as possible. He wanted Micha to enjoy this every bit as much as he was, to feel the teenager’s hands on his body.

Eager to please Oscar, Micha propped himself up and did exactly what he wanted, encompassing one of the nipples between his lips and sucking, his teeth grazing over the nub and causing Oscar to groan happily in appreciation.  

By this point both men were hard and aching but Oscar was determined that this was going to last. He wouldn’t rush anything with Micha, the sixteen year old deserved to be worshiped thoroughly and that was what Oscar intended to do.

The older of the two ran his hands through the blond hair of his young lover, as Micha moved his attentions onto the other nipple, the soft blond tufts of hair tickling his fingers. Micha began kissing his way down the tanned, muscular chest, completely unsure of what he was doing but simply doing what felt right to him and trusting his instincts to guide him. Oscar really didn’t seem to mind either, at least not judging by the sounds he was making. 

“Lie back,” Oscar instructed breathlessly, grinding his hips down to rub against Micha, who did as he was told, falling back on to the bed with a groan as his dick got the friction it so desperately needed.

“I want you, Micha,” Oscar said as he leaned down, trailing kisses down the teenager’s chest, kissing, nibbling and sucking at the pale skin, touching and caressing every inch of his younger lover that he could, making his way down to the waistband of Micha’s trousers. 

“I…” Micha began to say, but his speech was cut short when the button to his trousers was popped open and a hand delved inside, encompassing his erection and stroking. “Merlin!” the submissive groaned out as Oscar slowly and teasingly pumped, drawing out the pleasurable sensations that sent shivers through his entire body. 

“You’ve never been touched like this before,” Oscar said gently and watched as Micha nervously shook his head, his arms trembling with nerves. “It’s okay, I’ll take it slow.” 

“No,” Micha said at once, looking deep into the pale green eyes, “just…” he said, stopping to think of the words he wanted. “Just, don’t hurt me.” 

“I won’t hurt you,” Oscar assured his young lover as he nipped carefully at Micha’s exposed hip while still leisurely stroking at his dick. The teenager’s soft skin tasted wonderful as he ran his tongue across it, teeth scraping over protruding hip bones as the older of the two worked Micha’s trousers down over his thighs. Oscar pressed kisses down Micha’s legs as he moved down his body, pulling the teenager’s trousers with him until they were finally off completely, underwear and all leaving Micha completely naked.

Drawing himself up level with Micha once more, so that they were chest to chest, the younger of the two pinned to the bed, Oscar smiled down at him, loving the way that the teenager’s eyes were wide with lust and want. He had never wanted anything or anyone as much as he wanted Micha just then and he leaned down and pressed their lips together. He tried to show the younger man how he felt, as the kiss deepened, the two men rutting against one another, moaning into the kiss.

Micha brought his hands up tentatively, reaching between them and trying to hide the fact that his fingers were trembling slightly as he tried valiantly to undo Oscar’s trousers. However, his nerves were getting the better of him and he struggled to get the button loose; it wasn’t as though he had ever tried to undo anyone else’s trousers before, let alone whilst kissing and unable to see what he was doing. Realising that Micha needed a little help, Oscar broke the kiss and butted his nose against the teenager’s lovingly.

“Slow,” he said softly, meeting Micha’s eyes. “Take your time,” he instructed and Micha nodded his understanding, taking a deep breath and trying again. His fingers still trembling but this time having more success, the button coming free, though not easily.

With his heart racing, the sixteen year old began to work his lover’s trousers down, taking his underwear with them. It was tricky given he was still pinned to the bed beneath the bigger man, but Oscar smiled at him and pecked a kiss to his lips before using his legs to help work the trousers off, leaving them both naked, their erections rubbing together. 

Micha closed his eyes and bit his lip as all these new sensations washed over him; the feeling of having his legs split either side of the bigger man’s hips was strangely arousing, even more so now that they were both naked. He could feel Oscar’s erection brushing against his, the warmth of the other man’s hips against the inside of his thighs, and the weight of another body over him.

“Open your eyes,” Oscar instructed firmly. “I want to see them,” he added, staring down at his young lover. He was right on the edge, his balls having drawn up tight to his body and they hadn’t even done anything more than kiss and grope. He was going to have to get control of himself because otherwise this was not going to last long at all and Oscar wanted it to last as long as possible.

Micha did as he was told, opening his eyes and looking up at Oscar, still nibbling somewhat nervously on his lower lip. His hands ran uncertainly up the older man’s chest, caressing the smooth, hard muscle beneath his palms.

“So beautiful,” Oscar said in awe as he studied the younger man. There was something about Micha, he was nothing if not amazing, handsome and completely perfect. Micha just didn’t know what to say in response to that; he didn’t exactly agree with the older man’s assessment but he didn’t want to ruin the moment.

In all honesty, Micha had lost the ability to form word’s, he could feel Oscar’s rather large erection pressing against him and it scared him a little. The thought of the older man pushing that inside of him was damn near terrifying but at the same time there was very little that Micha wanted more; he had often thought that he wouldn’t want to actually be able to accept his place as a submissive, but that seemed like madness now with this gorgeous naked man above him.

“Have you ever had an orgasm, Micha?” Oscar asked as he began to kiss and nibble his way down Micha’s jaw and neck. Trailing kisses across his shoulder blades and down his chest, Micha shook his head as Oscar took one stiff nipple into his mouth, playing with the other between thumb and forefinger.

Micha had never really had much of a chance to experiment with anything sexual. Living in a forest clearing with a pack of werewolves really didn’t allow for much in the way of privacy. The secret code for going for a walk was always meant as something sexual was going to happen whether you went off alone or with someone else. Micha had always been too embarrassed to do anything like that, too afraid of being followed by Jared or Reid and being laughed at.

He had never so much as touched himself in that way in his whole life. Everything he was experiencing with Oscar was new and different. If he was honest with himself then it was absolutely amazing but he seemed to have lost all ability to speak, all he seemed to be capable of was moaning in pleasure at the sensations that he was experiencing.

“Talk to me, Micha,” Oscar pleaded gently; he didn’t want for Micha to feel that he couldn’t speak up if he was uncomfortable or wanted what they were doing to stop. The last thing he wanted was for the teenager to feel anything other than loved and wanted. By this time Oscar had reached the younger man’s stomach, where he dipped his tongue into the concave belly button causing Micha to squeal a little.

“What… what do you want me to say?” Micha asked a little hesitantly, his voice somewhat higher than it usually was as he looked down his body to where Oscar was kissing and nibbling at his hips and stomach, running his tongue across smooth skin, causing Micha’s body to practically tingle with desire. His cock was hard and leaking now, desperate for release that was being teasingly denied.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” Oscar said as he moved to his younger lover’s inner thighs, lavishing attention on them, though he made sure to avoid Micha’s cock, balls and entrance; he fully intending to dive Micha to distraction without touching him much at all. 

“I like this,” Micha said, his entire body heating with a scarlet blush, the words spoken so quietly that they were hard to hear. He knew very little about this kind of stuff, only what he had overheard his brother and Jared talking about, conversations that he had never been allowed to be part of but had eavesdropped on regardless. There were things he wanted to try, wanted to experience but he didn’t have the confidence to say them out loud, too worried that Oscar would laugh at him. 

“What about this?” Oscar asked as he kissed his way to Micha’s straining erection, kissing the base of the shaft, his nose burying in light blond curls of hair there. He kissed his way up to the leaking tip, before running his tongue across the slit. Micha had never felt anything even close to it before and cried out with the unexpected sensation of it. 

“Yes,” Micha hissed through clenched teeth, desperate for more. His heels were digging into the bedding beneath him; Oscar had Micha’s hips pinned with his hands, the pressure of keeping Micha from bucking his hips upwards would no doubt leave bruises but it would be worth it. Micha moaned his approval loudly as Oscar repeated the action, teasing the slit of the teenager’s aching erection with the tip of his tongue.

Grinning at the amazing sounds coming from his young lover, Oscar took the tip of Micha’s cock into his mouth, tongue swirling around it, coating it in saliva. The sixteen year old clenched his fists in the duvet, his eyes closing as he let out short pleasured gasps and moans as Oscar slowly engulfed more and more of his erection. Micha kept expecting the older man to pull back, but Oscar just kept going, taking more and more into his mouth until the tip grazed against the back of his throat.

By this point young Micha was so overwhelmed with pleasure at his cock being surrounded in such a beautiful, wet warmth that he was capable of very few coherent thoughts. Oscar bobbed his head up and down, hollowing his cheeks as he applied as much suction as he was able to, swallowing each time he brought the erection to the back of his throat.

By only the third time Oscar did this it was already becoming too much for the teenager and Micha tried to splutter out a warning as the intensity of his building climax came to a peak; he couldn’t hold it back anymore. He shot his load into Oscar’s waiting and willing mouth as he gasped for air, his heart racing and his body awash with previously unknown waves of pleasure.

The older man withdrew, letting Micha’s softening cock slip from his mouth before moving up Micha’s body until he had brought himself level with the sixteen year old. Smiling down at him, he licked his lips before delving into a deep and passionate kiss. Micha felt it a little odd that he could taste himself on Oscar’s tongue; however, as strange as it was, it was also highly arousing and, despite his orgasm seconds ago, he felt his cock twitch with interest as their tongues intertwined together.

“Wow,” Micha said as Oscar broke the kiss, the teenager was grinning widely, never having experienced anything of the like before. He could understand now why his brother and Jared had been so obsessed. Something that was this amazing was worth talking about all the time.

“It’s not over yet,” Oscar said with a twinkle of promise in his soft green eyes, which made Micha’s stomach tingle in anticipation. He could feel his lover’s erection pressing against him and it made him start to harden all over again. However, seeing as it was so soon since he had last come it was almost painful.

“It isn’t?” Micha questioned, his stunning purple eyes widening in amazement. He felt wonderful and Oscar had given him that; he was astounded that there could be more and the teenager didn’t doubt that his lover would make whatever came next just as amazing as what they had just done.

“Oh no, my sweet boy,” Oscar purred seductively, “not by a long way.” The older of the two withdrew, sitting himself up on his knees and allowing his gaze to travel over Micha hungrily, unable to believe what they were doing, that the beautiful creature in front of him was all his to do what he wanted with. This knowledge made his heart race and his head soar, feeling as though he was the luckiest man in the world.

Micha sat himself up too and, fuelled with a new found confidence from his orgasm and Oscar’s praise, he reached forward with the intention of taking hold his lover’s impressive erection; he wanted to repay the favour for what Oscar had just done to him. However, Oscar apparently had other ideas and took Micha’s hands within his own before the teenager had the chance, shaking his head, a small smile on his lips.

“Why?” Micha asked, looking up to Oscar’s face, feeling a little hurt by this rejection and it must have shown in his eyes because before he knew what was happening, Oscar had pulled him up and into his lap so that Micha was straddling him. The hard cock pressing teasingly against his virgin entrance, making the teenager gasp; he hadn’t realised how much he had wanted this until that moment, he was desperate for it.

“Because I want this to last,” Oscar explained softly, kissing Micha for all that he was worth. “If you touch me then it’ll be over and I don’t want to come until I’m inside of you.” 

Micha’s breath hitched at these words, spoken with such seductive tenderness that it sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine. He closed his eyes and took a deep calming breath; he still wasn’t entirely sure how his lover would fit inside him, nervous that it would hurt, but so far Oscar had been nothing but kind, gentle and honest, so he trusted the older man to take care of him. 

“Shower with me?” Oscar requested and Micha realised that he had got lost in his thoughts, and that the other man was watching him. The teenager nodded his agreement to this plan mutely, not trusting himself to speak. The sight of Oscar completely naked was arousing enough as it was, but even the idea of seeing water flowing over that toned body was making his cock twitch excitedly.

Shuffling off the bed, with a helping hand from Oscar, the two of them stumbled somewhat awkwardly to the bathroom, both men hard and aching for the other. Oscar was the one who turned on the shower before stepping inside; Micha couldn’t help but stare, mesmerised by the sight of Oscar standing in the shower, the man’s thick cock standing to attention and holding a hand out towards Micha. 

“You joining me?” Oscar asked with a teasing smile and Micha nodded eagerly, hurrying forward and letting his lover help him over the edge of the tub. It was one of those claustrophobic over the bath showers that all hotels seemed to have; it was hardly perfect but it would do for what Oscar had in mind.

Grabbing the complimentary hotel body wash, he squeezed some into the palm of his hand before starting to lather bubbles up on the teenagers skin, earning a startled yelp from Micha at the apparently unexpected action. He chuckled lightly as he started to work his hands in soft circular motions all over Micha’s body, playing close attention to the teenager’s nether regions, particularly his bum and entrance, ensuring that Micha was spotlessly clean.

Oscar then handed the body wash over to his lover; Micha took it, looking a little apprehensive but he was determinedly up for the challenge. He repeated what Oscar had done to him, almost to the letter, something that the older man found highly amusing but pleasurable none the less. The sixteen year old was tentative in his touch, nervous and hesitant in almost every action, but it was something that Oscar found highly endearing and even a little erotic.

Micha enjoyed the chance to really explore Oscar’s toned body with his hands, almost as much as he had enjoyed it when they roles had been reversed; he was actually a little sorry when he ran out of places to carefully clean and Oscar took over, making sure they were both rinsed down properly. 

When they were both clean and free from soap bubbles, Oscar turned Micha so that he was facing away from him and into the wall, placing the younger man’s hands on the tiled wall in front of him, leaning forward and whispering softly into his ear; “Hold on.”

Micha had no idea what to expect but he kept his hands planted firmly on the tiles in front of him as instructed, the hot water cascading down his back, his entire body tensed as he waited for what was to come. He felt hands caressing his bum, parting the cheeks; however, he was not expecting for Oscar to kneel down and run his tongue across his entrance.

The sixteen year old cried out in surprise, going up on his toes, his hips thrusting forward toward the tiles instinctively, his body tensing up; somehow, though, he managed to keep his hands firmly pressed against the wall. He heard Oscar let out a small laugh at his reaction and felt a kiss pressed to one of his bum cheeks; Micha looked over his shoulder at the older man, a blush on his face and a question on his lips.

Oscar, however, just smirked up at him and whispered for him to relax, before quickly doing it again. This time it was less of a shock to feel that warm, wet pressure against his hole and Micha was able to relax a little more. On the third time Micha was practically putty in Oscar’s hands.

A stream of profanities spewed from the sixteen year old as Oscar buried his head between Micha’s cheeks, his tongue circling the tight ring of muscle there, teasing it a little before pushing into him before quickly withdrawing again. It was all Micha could do not to let his legs fail him; as it was, his whole body was trembling with the effort of keeping himself upright.

“Oscar,” Micha moaned as the older man speared his tongue as deep inside of his young lover as he could make it go. The teenager honestly didn’t think that he was going to be able to keep himself upright for much longer; though it was clear that Oscar was not done with him yet, not that Micha had any objections on that front. He had never given a great deal thought to sex before today but, now that he had had his first orgasm, it was like the floodgates had been opened, and he just wanted more. 

The older man placed a final kiss to Micha’s entrance before withdrawing; however, he didn’t stand up, and when Micha went to move away from the wall he gently pushed him back towards it again. “Patience, Micha,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the teenager’s hip before reaching over to the vanity counter and grabbing hold of another little complimentary bottle.

Turning his attention back to his younger lover, he took hold of one of Micha’s legs, supporting the teenager with his other arm as he hitched the leg up, positioning it so that Micha’s foot was now on the edge of the tub. Micha blushed, knowing how exposed to Oscar’s gaze he was, but the vulnerability of the position turning him on.

“So beautiful,” Oscar purred as he undid the cap on the lotion bottle. He had not been expecting for this to happen and he had not come prepared with lube; the horrid, vanilla scented complimentary hand lotion was going to have to do, as he would not go in dry; he would not risk hurting Micha and especially not considering that it was his first time.

“You taste amazing, Micha,” Oscar said as he squirted some of the lotion on to two fingers before positioning them at the younger man’s entrance. “I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my dick, I can only imagine how good that will feel.”

Micha let out a low, throaty moan at the words that were being spoken to him; however, they were doing exactly what Oscar had intended and relaxing the teenager as he rubbed the lotion on the tight ring of muscle. Unable to hold back any longer, Oscar pushed a single digit inside of his lover.

The sixteen year old threw back his head, into the still running water of the shower and moaned loudly. The intensity of it was more than he had ever experienced before in his life, there were no words to describe how amazing it was. Even with the slight burn, which Micha found he quite liked, it was too good to form words, as Oscar moved his finger inside of him.

“Please, more,” Micha pleaded as he tried to bear down on the single finger that was fucking him. Oscar let out a pleased chuckle at his lover’s begging and complied happily, adding a second finger, stretching and preparing the teenager for what was to come next.

“Yes... Oscar...” Micha moaned, resting his forehead on the tiles in front of him as his lover thrust two fingers inside him. “More… please… so good,” he said between gasps for air, his whole body thrumming with arousal, his heart pounding in his chest and his every nerve tingling with sensation.

Oscar reached down to stroke himself a little, unable to hold back from touching himself any longer, as he hooked the two fingers he had buried in Micha’s arse, brushing them over the little bundle of nerves inside of his lover, knowing that it would drive Micha wild.

The teenager didn’t disappoint, howling with pleasure as his body was overwhelmed with waves of utter bliss, his cock achingly close to release and his balls drawn up tight to his body. Micha could hardly believe that he was about to come again. All it would take would be one more brush against that special spot inside of him and he was going to blow.

However, Oscar seemed to realise this and carefully avoided touching it again. Instead he added more lotion to his hand, squeezing the base of his shaft tightly to hold off his orgasm and pressed a third finger inside Micha, working it carefully in and out of his young lover, stretching the teenager’s tight entrance, not wanting to hurt him. As Micha’s pleas became more frantic and more desperate, Oscar realised that it was time.

Removing his hand from inside the teenager, Oscar got to his feet. He shut off the water, before stepping out of the tub and grabbing a towel; he held out his hand with a smile when Micha turned to look at him questioningly, as though waiting for permission to remove his hands from where they were still on the wall. 

Helping Micha to clamber out after him, Oscar wrapped the fluffy white towel around the teenager, drying him off before grabbing one for himself, using the time to calm himself down. He didn’t want it to end too soon, but this was the second time that he had brought himself back from the edge of orgasm and he knew that if he didn’t come soon then he was going to crazy with wanting the handsome man in front of him.

Once they were both completely dried off, Oscar took Micha by the hand and led the younger man back into the bedroom; he headed directly for the bed, wanting for them both to be comfortable for this. He turned and kissed the younger man furiously, pulling Micha willingly against him, their bodies pressed together, erections rubbing against each other’s. Oscar was just glad that he had remembered to grab the lotion because no amount of preparation was going to make this pain free if he didn’t use lube.

He had never had any reason to be ashamed of his cock; he wasn’t the longest but he was thick, his girth impressive and he didn’t want to hurt Micha. Oscar could feel that his lover’s heart was racing; in truth, his was too, both of them as nervous as each other, the anticipation of what they were about to do driving them both a little mad with wanting and desire.

Oscar pressed his lips to Micha’s again, gently lowering the teenager on to the bed, being so gentle with him, fearful that Micha might break or get scared if he were too rough. They scooted up the bed, the small lotion bottle resting beside them, they only stopped when Micha’s head rested against the pillows. 

This was never the easiest position but Oscar wanted to look into the stunning purple eyes as he pushed into Micha. He loved the colour, the intensity and the emotions that they held. There was no other way of doing this that he wanted to consider; it would be worth it to be able to watch Micha.

The teenager parted his legs willingly, allowing Oscar to nestle himself between them, his erection pressing against Micha’s entrance. He could see that the teenagers leg’s were trembling; presumably from a mixture of nerves, the result of the very recent toe curling orgasm and being on the pinnacle of another. 

“It’ll be okay, trust me,” Oscar said, leaning down a pressing a quick to Micha’s lips, as he stroked calming circles with his hand against the outside of Micha’s right thigh. He smiled kindly when the teenager nodded and took two deep breaths.

Oscar was struggling to hold himself back at this point but he knew that he had to. Leaning down he captured Micha’s lips in a searing kiss, stroking at his damp, blond hair lovingly. “Please,” Micha pleaded, his words brushing air against Oscar’s lips as he teenager tried to push himself down on to Oscar’s waiting erection. 

However, the older man withdrew, shaking his head. “Patience,” he instructed with a smile as he sat himself up a little. Oscar grabbed the lotion from where it had landed on the bed and flicked the cap, covering his palm in the vanilla scented white liquid. He made a mental note to run out and get some actual lube because there was no way that he was doing this just once and there would barely be enough left to go for round two.

Micha watched with a hungry gaze in his eyes as Oscar gripped the base of his own cock tightly with the hand that didn’t have copious amounts of lotion in it before coating his erection thoroughly with the wet, scented goop. Micha felt like every inch of him was on fire as he watched Oscar prepare himself to entire him.

Only once he was sure that he was ready, did Oscar move so that the tip of his cock was pressed against Micha’s entrance. He was staring down into the stunning amethyst orbs with such adoration; Oscar couldn’t believe that he was here. Only this morning he had stumbled across the young man barefoot and hungry and now they were here, in bed together and Oscar couldn’t think of anywhere he would rather be.

“Oscar, please, I need you, I need to feel you,” Micha said somewhat desperately, his hands reaching forward, trying to take hold of the older man’s hips. Oscar, however, had other ideas, taking Micha’s hands within his own and kissing each of them gently in turn.

“I’ll give you what you need,” he purred seductively, releasing Micha and running his hands down the younger man’s thighs, gripping at his waist with one hand and his own cock with the other, as he slowly pushed forward. The teenager threw his head back, eyes closed as Oscar’s wide girth stretched him open as he began to slip inside.

The man’s erection was so much wider than the three fingers that had been inside him before and, as Oscar pushing into him slowly and steadily, Micha felt as though he was being filled completely. The burn and stretch felt so good, as did the knowledge that his lover was inside him, penetrating him, as no one else ever had; and Oscar kept pushing forward, moving in deeper until he was balls deep inside of the younger man.

“Look at me, Micha,” the older man said softly, his voice full of want and need as he held himself perfectly still. He needed to know that he wasn’t hurting the younger man before he carried on. He wanted to look into Micha’s eyes as they made love for the first time, Oscar wanted for it to be special for the teenager given that Micha had never done this before.

Micha opened his eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly, the intensity of the sensation of having Oscar inside of him so wonderfully pleasing but at the same time annoyingly frustrating when all he wanted was for him to move. Purple eyes gazed into soft green pleadingly, silently asking for more.

“Oscar…” the younger man begged, trying to bring his hips up and encourage some movement or in fact any movement at all, but the older man’s grip on his hips prevented it from being of any use.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Oscar said, his arms now shaking with the effort of keeping himself suspended above the smaller man and while not crushing him. It took a lot of self-control not to pull back and thrust inside of Micha again. The teenager’s arse felt so hot and tight around him, a sensation that only increased when Micha clenched his muscles experimentally, squeezing around the older man’s cock; Oscar knew that if he didn’t start to move soon then he was going to lose the last shreds of his control.

“You won’t” Micha said breathlessly, needing so much more. “Just please,” he continued, “I need you to move, please.”

Oscar concurred, moving his hands on to the bed, resting on either side of Micha’s head, giving himself some leverage before pulling back so only the tip of his cock was inside of the younger man. Then in one swift motion he thrust himself back inside, the resulting scream was one of bliss as he had hit Micha’s prostate.

Oscar loved the delightful moans and whimpers that Micha made as he thrust himself into the teenager’s body, tucking his arms behind the young man’s legs, splaying them even further and thrusting deeper still; he kept up a steady but somewhat brutal pace, responding to Micha’s pleas of faster and harder, loving how the teenager reacted to each touch and each thrust. Micha clearly liked to be dominated and it was something that Oscar got off on, knowing that he had complete control over the younger man.

It was perhaps only minutes before Micha was splattering their chests with pearly white come, his second orgasm of the evening, nails digging into Oscar’s back as his literally toe-curling climax ripped through him. As the teenager came, he contracted around Oscar, who was still buried deep inside of him and it was enough to send the older man tumbling gracelessly over the edge as well, emptying himself inside of his young lover with a grunt before collapsing on top of Micha, breathing heavily.

Silence descended between them as they both fought to catch their breath, Oscar untucking his arms from Micha’s legs before the young man got a cramp. Both of them were slicked with sweat and their minds temporarily blown by the force of their orgasms. If Oscar had been in any doubt before then there was none now; Micha was the perfect man. He came to his senses, however, when he felt the teenager running his fingers through damp hair.

Moving slightly, Oscar pulled himself out of the younger man and rolling to the side, ensuring that he left one arm draped leisurely across Micha’s stomach, while nuzzling into the crook of his neck, placing tender kisses there. Micha carried on stroking his lover’s brown hair that was still damp from their shower as their heart rates returned to normal.

“Are you okay?” Oscar asked, being the first to break the silence.

“Yes,” Micha returned gently, his eyes having drifted closed. His lack of sleep over the last few weeks was starting to really catch up with him again and he could feel sleep pulling him down. The problem was he didn’t want to sleep, he wanted to stay awake and bask in the moment with Oscar, enjoying it before it was over. 

FGHP

When Micha woke up he was alone in bed; the morning sunlight streaming in through the windows and making him wince at how bright it was. He felt delightfully sore this morning, his lower back ached and even as he stretched he could feel how well used he had been the night before. He really wasn’t complaining though, it was a good feeling.

He could hear the shower going in the bathroom and smiled to himself. If he had had the energy, or thought he might be able to go a few more rounds, then he would have crawled from the bed and gone to join his lover in there but he was warm and he was comfortable; there was no way he was going to move unless he absolutely had to.

It was honestly taking a while for Micha to wrap his head around everything that was happening. So, even if he had had the brain capacity to force himself into moving to go and join his older lover in the shower, he wouldn’t have done; but only because he needed to take a moment to come to terms with everything that had happened to him since being forced into leaving his family.

The last thing that he had ever expected when Tristan exiled him from his pack was to end up in a hotel room with an almost complete stranger; he didn’t even know Oscar’s surname. However, this didn’t panic Micha at all, there was something about the older man that left him completely at ease.

“What are you thinking about?” a familiar and kind voice asked. Micha had been so deeply engrossed in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed that the shower had shut off and Oscar was now standing in front of him, a towel wrapped around his waist, still dripping wet from the shower, water droplets trickling somewhat seductively down his defined chest. The thought of licking them off had Micha practically salivating.

“Home,” Micha said, his voice a little strained as he tried to keep focused on the question he had been asked, rather than the delicious imagery that was featuring a rather stunning fantasy in his head right now. “My family.”

“If that’s the look you get when thinking of your family then I’m a little concerned,” Oscar said, halfway to sounding amused as he took in his young lover, surveying him for any signs that he regretted what had happened between them the evening before.

“Sorry,” Micha said, his cheeks turning scarlet with embarrassment as he sat up in the bed; he honestly hadn’t meant to make it so obvious that he was thinking of something erotic, which they could be doing instead of talking; however, it seemed that Oscar could see right through him.

“What do you have to be sorry for?” Oscar asked, coming to sit on the bed beside the still blushing young man, who was having a little trouble making eye contact. Oscar reached forward and tipped Micha’s chin up so that their eyes met; he was never going to get over the stunning shade of purple he found there.

“Before you came back in, I really was thinking about my family and my home,” Micha said in a whisper, clearly nervous but Oscar remained silent, allowing the teenager to talk, simply nodding to head to show that he was following. “But when I saw you… saw you like that…”

Realisation dawning on Oscar then and he couldn’t help but smile; he honestly couldn’t have held it back even if he wanted to. “Do you like what you see, Micha?” he asked, reaching a hand up to stroke one of the soft blond tufts of hair that was even messier this morning from sleeping with it slightly damp the night before. It was possibly the cutest thing that Oscar had ever seen.

Micha, unable to form words without stuttering and showing just how embarrassed he was, nodded his head. He wasn’t sure how Oscar felt about last night yet and he wanted to know whether or not the older man regretted it. What they had done had been in the heat of the moment after all and it had been his first time. It worried Micha a lot more than it should have that Oscar would not have been satisfied due to his lack of experience.

“Micha,” Oscar said with a smile, truly unable to believe that he had managed to find such an endearingly innocent and naive young man to call his own. He knew that, whatever happened, he would have to protect him and ensure that Micha stayed that way. “You don’t have to be shy with me. If you want to touch me then you can.”

Micha looked to the older man with amazement, unable to believe that he had been granted permission to touch him whenever he  felt the need, which right now was all the fucking time. He was struggling to keep his hands to himself if truth be told. “I can?” he asked, just to be sure.

“If you feel anything close to how I feel about you, then you’re probably struggling just as much; I want you to feel free to touch me” Oscar told him truthfully. “I want to touch you so badly, Micha, to kiss you but I don’t want to scare you off.”

“You won’t,” Micha said quickly. “I want you to touch me.”

“Are you still sore from last night?” Oscar asked, leaning closer so that their foreheads were resting together, noses bumping, both of them on the verge of smashing their lips together.

“A little,” Micha said truthfully. With that question he took a moment to evaluate how he felt; he was aching pleasantly all over, this was true, but he was craving more. All he wanted was Oscar. He bit his lip and closed his eyes as he imagined his lover sinking into him again, stretching him, fucking him. The young submissive had to hold back a moan at the thought.

“Then we will take it slow,” Oscar said gently, having no desire to hurt his lover and he knew that he hadn’t exactly been gentle the night before, his control having been shattered by the beautiful creature in front of him now. 

Oscar’s hands gave up on holding his towel closed, reaching out to simply touch the teenager, running his hands over every inch of his body that he could reach. Micha let the duvet slip down, exposing his own chest to Oscar’s touch. “Tell me what you’re thinking about,” the older man requested sweetly.

“You,” Micha said, reaching out and running his finger along a water trail going doing Oscar’s chest, his cheeks heating up as he added, “inside of me.” At this answer to his question, Oscar couldn’t help but groan with arousal. His cock was already half hard and hearing Micha talk about that was not helping his erection to lessen at all.

It had not been the plan for the morning; Oscar had wanted to take Micha out for breakfast and spoil him a little. The last thing that he wanted was for the sixteen year old to think that he was simply a one night stand, which really wasn’t the case. Oscar fully intended on keeping the young man all to himself for a very long time.

“Keep talking like that and we’re never going to get out of this hotel room,” Oscar said closing the small distance between them and placing a chaste kiss upon the young man’s lips. Micha attempted to deepen the kiss, wanting nothing more than to not leave the hotel room for the morning but it was clear that Oscar had other plans for them. 

“Go and shower,” the older man instructed, pulling back from their kiss and trying will his erection down. He really didn’t think it was a good idea for the two of them to spend another whole day in the hotel room.

“Before I do,” Micha began, biting his lip a little anxiously as he reached out and grabbed hold of Oscar’s arm to keep him in place when the older man went to stand up. “Can I try something?” Micha asked. 

Oscar had a feeling he knew what it was that his young lover wanted to try and he was about to say no, that they didn’t really have time. However, he didn’t really have a chance before Micha slid out of the bed and was on his knees before him, looking up at him with wide amethyst eyes; the sight alone was too much for him to resist.

“Micha…” Oscar said as the teenager’s nimble fingers went for the towel that was still covering him, parting the fabric and exposing his erection. Watching as Micha licked his lips was almost the undoing of him before they had even had the chance to do anything more.

“Please,” Micha requested, looking up at Oscar pleadingly, his wide eyes full of lust and want as he begged to be given permission. He wanted to know what it felt like, he wanted to feel his lover’s cock in his mouth.

“Okay,” Oscar said, though it was no hardship for him to agree to this. He wanted this as much as Micha did, it just hadn’t been what he had been expecting for morning. With permission granted the sixteen year old moved forward and took the tip of the erection into his mouth. “Merlin, fuck, Micha!”

The sensation of having the deliciously warm, wet heat surrounding him combined with the teenager’s enthusiastic efforts to suck him was going to push him over the edge in no time at all. He brought a hand up to run through the soft blond tufts of hair, encouraging the younger man to continue, muttering soft words of encouragement.

Of course, Micha had no idea what he was doing, he had never done this before, but he was nothing of not keen to learn. He was spurred on by the delightful moans coming from his lover, pushing him to continue to do what he was doing; he experimented with running his tongue across the tip, like he remembered Oscar doing to him and even reached a hand up tentatively to fondle his lovers balls gently between his fingers.

Oscar barely had time to shout out a warning before he was spurting his load down Micha’s willing throat. The younger man swallowed it all eagerly, continuing to suck, milking his lovers cock for everything it had before Oscar took the teenager’s head in his hands, stopping him. 

“So perfect,” Oscar said, bringing Micha to his feet, wrapping an arm around the teenagers waist and pulling him close. The moment he had got Micha to straddle his lap, he pressed their lips together and kissed him for all he was worth.

FGHP 

Oscar finally managed to persuade Micha that they really should leave the hotel room and find something to eat, which was why two hours later the two of them were sat in an American style diner waiting for their food to arrive. It had amused Oscar greatly when Micha had ordered chocolate pancakes with a side of ice cream for breakfast; it was becoming evident that the young man had something of a sweet tooth.

So far, since they had met, they had both managed to dance around anything sensitive or delicate in their conversations, even going so far as to distract themselves from the need to talk by having sex. Now, however, Oscar was determined that they were going to talk because if they were going any further in their relationship then they were going to have to talk about the difficult stuff; though, he was rather lost in his thoughts, trying to work out where to start for the moment.

“What does that mean?” Micha asked somewhat suddenly, returning Oscar’s attention to him. The older man looked to his young lover and saw that Micha was pointing to the embroidered insignia on the left breast of his black robes. He hadn’t wanted to wear his robes but the clothes that he had bought for Micha hadn’t fit him, and he didn’t have any other clothes of his own, so he hadn’t had a choice.

Oscar sighed; it wasn’t something that he was proud of and not something he really wanted to discuss at all, despite his intentions to start talking with Micha about important things. He had never been given much of a choice in regards to joining the Werewolf Hunters; his father and brother had demanded it of him, he had never been given another option. 

He had considered running away, but he had been so young and knew they would have come after him if he had; he had been no match for them really. He had come to accept that his place was with them, though he had never been happy doing the things that they did. He didn’t want to make Micha think badly of him by telling him he was part of such a hateful group of people.

“It’s a group,” Oscar said picking his words carefully. “One that my family belong to,” he went on, not wanting to expose the fact that his family was rather prejudice against anything or anyone that wasn’t a pureblood wizard. “They’re not exactly very nice people.”

“Is that why you aren’t with them at the moment?” Micha asked curiously. The conversation paused for a moment as the waiter who was serving them brought them their drinks. Micha just had a strawberry milkshake, but there was a large black coffee for Oscar; not having his morning dose of caffeine would almost certainly be detrimental to the type of day he was likely to have.

“I’m not with them at the moment because they asked me to do something for them, they expect me back within the next couple of days,” Oscar told him truthfully. He knew how angry his family would be if they knew he had spend the last day getting involved with a young man who was all but a stranger to him.

“What’s going to happen between us when you have to go back to them?” Micha asked as he took the straw for his drink between his lips, not once taking his gaze off Oscar, and sucking.

The older man tensed, watching his young lover intently, knowing that Micha knew exactly what he was doing. “I don’t know if I’m going to go back to them now, Micha.”

“Because of me?” Micha asked with confusion; he thought that things were going well between them, and he was sure that he could fall head over heels in love with Oscar, but the man sounded as though he was talking about giving up his family for him. That was, admittedly, a rather scary prospect and Micha didn’t know what to think.

“Yes, because of you,” Oscar returned seriously. “There is something about you Micha. I can’t explain it,” he told the teenager seriously, reaching across the table to squeeze one of Micha’s hands in his own, “but it makes me want to live a better life, it makes me not want to leave you.” 

Micha fell silent for a moment, suddenly fixating on the table and his hands, on the way Oscar’s fingers curled around his own and how ever that small touch made him feel so connected to this other person. He felt completely unable to look up despite feeling Oscar’s curious gaze upon him. 

“Micha, what is it?” Oscar asked, sounding worried. “What’s wrong?” 

“There’s… I have to… before we…” Micha stuttered, unable to form the words that he needed to get out. He felt terrible for not telling Oscar sooner but the man was now talking about leaving his family for him; if he didn’t tell Oscar now then he knew that it would backfire and hurt both of them later.

“Micha, calm down,” Oscar said firmly, seeing that his lover was on the verge of a panic attack and knowing that the teenager seemed to react well to clear instructions. “What is it?” he asked once Micha had taken a few calming breaths, trying to keep his voice calm despite feeling hugely concerned about what had got the teenager into such a state. 

It was possibly the worst timing in the world for the waiter to turn up with their food right at that moment. Both of them fell silent until the waiter had left them alone. In truth Micha had been glad for the time; he had needed it to get himself together and figure out how he was going to say what he needed to.

“I need to tell you before we go any further,” Micha said, he sounded utterly panicked and completely terrified. All his life he had heard about how people treated their kind, how hated and feared they were, and he knew that the truth could, and probably would, ruin everything; Micha wasn’t sure that he was ready to let Oscar go just yet, or ever for that matter, but he couldn’t let the man give up everything without at least knowing the truth.

“Tell me what?” Oscar asked slowly, a mix of curiosity and worry coming over him. He could tell by the way that Micha was acting that it was important and it honestly scared him a little to think of what it could possibly be. He couldn’t figure out what could be so important that it would upset Micha this much.

“I don’t want you to hate me,” Micha whispered, before glancing up at Oscar, seeing the worried expression that his older lover was wearing. “I know a lot of people do hate people like me and I know I should have told you sooner, I just didn’t know if I could trust you to begin with and then there just wasn’t a chance. I’m sorry. I should have told you before we slept together, I’m so, so sorry that I didn’t,” Micha rambled.

“Micha,” Oscar said firmly, squeezing Micha’s hand, which was still in his own. He found the rambling rather adorable, but he wasn’t sure how much more suspense he could handle. “Just tell me, I’m not going to hate you. In truth I think it’s probably a good thing that you have a flaw, because right now you seem so perfect, too perfect.”

Micha took a deep breath, his hands visibly trembling and he still found himself unable to look at Oscar as he gathered his courage to tell the man he was sleeping with what he was. “I’m…” he began, really struggling to get the word out. “I’m a werewolf.”

Oscar, at first, couldn’t process this information; it was like there was a buzzing in his ears, like the whole world other than the two of them had just vanished as he tried to let the revelation sink in. The fact that his precious Micha was the one thing that his father, brother and the rest of the Hunters absolutely despised was beyond him. Micha was so perfect, he was handsome, adorably sweet, innocent, naive … of course he wasn’t going to be absolutely perfect.

“I… I should leave,” Micha said quietly, the words catching in his throat. He looked entirely forlorn, hating that what he was had clearly unnerved Oscar. He knew that his kind were feared and discriminated against in the wizarding world so he shouldn’t have been surprised, but it still hurt to know that something so amazing could be destroyed by something that he couldn’t change. After all, he had been born this way, not bitten.

“No,” Oscar said at once when Micha went to pull his hand free, standing up to leave. “Don’t go, please,” he begged, refusing to relinquish his hold on the younger man. “Stay here, please. I’m sorry, it was just a bit of a shock,” he explained, looking Micha in the eye imploringly.

Micha hesitated, looking a little uncertain about whether or not this was a good idea. He didn’t want to leave, he wanted to listen to what Oscar had to say but equally he was scared. This man now knew his deepest darkest secret and he doubted that that was ever going to be a good thing; but what good was telling Oscar the truth, if he didn’t give the man at least a chance to accept him for who he really was.

“Okay,” Micha said a little nervously, making up his mind and settling himself back down in his seat, though he was considerably more tense than he had been only minutes earlier. He sat in silence, not sure what to say now, and waited for Oscar to say something. While he waited he began to pick at his pancakes and ice cream somewhat half-heartedly; he had been in such a great mood when he had ordered them, looking forward to the delicious breakfast, but his appetite seemed to have left him.

“Eat, please,” Oscar said, though he had made no effort to make a start on his own meal, a full cooked English breakfast. “I didn’t mean to startle you, or upset you, but you have to understand that this is a shock for me. A big shock. I just never expected for you to be…”

“A freak?” Micha suggested, stabbing his fork into a pancake a little aggressively, looking up at the other man with anger in his eyes; he wasn’t really angry with how his lover had reacted to the truth, but more with the unfairness of the situation. 

Oscar sent the younger man a warning glare, not liking the teenager referring to himself as such, though he knew the Hunters would have used far worse terms to describe the young man in front of him. “No,” he said seriously. “You are not a freak, Micha. I just didn’t expect for you to be a werewolf,” he explained sternly, as he finally picked up his cutlery and started to eat, still mulling over this new information trying to figure out what he was going to do. 

His family would never approve; worse than that, the second that they discovered what Micha was they would kill the teenager without question; they would probably kill him too if they knew that the two of them had been intimate together simply out of fear that Micha might have somehow corrupted him, turned him. Upon realising this, it only took Oscar a split second to make the decision to protect Micha, no matter what it took to do so. He didn’t want any harm to come to the young and innocent boy, especially not because of him or his family. He was suddenly very glad that he hadn’t told Micha the extent of the group that he belonged to.

“I was born a werewolf,” Micha said quietly, not wanting anyone else to overhear what they were saying but wanting Oscar to understand. Being a werewolf was as much part of who he was as his messy blond hair, the shape of his face, his purple eyes, or his being a submissive; not that Oscar knew about the last part, of course, not yet at least.

“Do you have family?” Oscar asked curiously, suddenly realising that it might not have been a coincidence that he had run into Micha. He had been sent here to do recognisance as there had been rumours of a group of werewolves in the area.

“I did,” Micha said sadly. “My brother, he challenged the Alpha for his position and lost,” he explained. “My family were killed.” Micha pulled his hand free of Oscar’s and rubbed at his eyes, brushing away the tears before they could even form; he tried not to remember how he had watched as Jared snapped his mother’s neck, tried to force those images from his mind. “The Alpha was kind to me though,” he added, determinedly looking up to meet Oscar’s eyes, “he saved my life but I had to leave.”

“So, you don’t have anyone else?” Oscar asked with a frown. 

“No,” Micha said sadly, and Oscar felt his heart breaking for the young man sitting opposite him; it had always been clear that things had been bad for Micha recently, but to hear how alone the teenager was was so sad. It certainly explained a lot about the state Micha had been in when he had found him, but he didn’t like that the teenager was so alone in the world when he was still so young. 

It didn’t sit right with him that Micha had no one to take care of him. Oscar so badly wanted to take on this task himself but, with the truth about Micha revealed to him, he now knew that he couldn’t, at least not in the way he wanted to. The two of them would never be able to be together, not in the way that Oscar craved for them to be but if he could help it, Micha was never going to be truly alone again.

Oscar watched Micha, thinking deeply, trying to work out how he could help him. He was pleased to see they young man actually eating as he watched the teenager take a mouthful of pancake and ice cream, chewing thoughtfully.

“It’s okay though,” Micha said once he had swallowed; Oscar gave him a sceptical look. “I’m alive and really I shouldn’t be,” Micha went on. “I miss my family though; I miss them so much sometimes and my pack. They’re all I’ve ever known.”

“They exiled you, Micha,” Oscar said, his tone a little biting. He couldn’t help but wonder if the hunters weren’t completely wrong about werewolves, for them to have abandoned this wonderful, innocent teenager to a world he so clearly knew very little about. “Just because your Alpha let you live doesn’t mean he did you a favour,” Oscar went on rather hatefully, a scowl on his face. Even if some werewolves were obviously nothing like what his father had told him, he still didn’t like the sound of this Alpha; he would gladly give him a piece of his mind for what he had done to Micha, given half a chance.

“He saved my life,” Micha said softly. He didn’t like that anyone would say a bad word against Tristan, he had been a good man and a good Alpha too. He didn’t like that he had been exiled, and a few days ago he had been sure that it was going to leave him dead anyway, but he understood that Tristan’s only other choice had been to let Jared kill him there and then.

“He sent you out into the world with nothing, knowing the dangers that are out here,” Oscar said, not liking that Micha didn’t realise just how serious it was that he had essentially been sent out of his pack to die; it might have been less cruel to have killed Micha quickly. It really had only been pure luck that had led him to Micha, given him a chance to help save him.

“You don’t seem to be that bothered that I’m a werewolf,” Micha said, keeping his voice low, looking at Oscar with interest as he took another bite of ice cream. He was rather happy to have the chance to change the subject if he were honest; he really didn’t feel at all comfortable listening to anyone talking badly about Tristan, after all the Alpha had saved his life.

“I am not as discriminatory as most might be,” Oscar said, once again choosing his words carefully; he didn’t want to offend Micha or scare him off. The world was a delicate place when it came to creatures such as werewolves and with groups, like the one that his father and brother were in, added to the mix it could only become more volatile.

“So it doesn’t bother you at all?” Micha asked, hope springing from his voice. He liked to think that Oscar wouldn’t hate him or dislike him at all for what he was, but he hadn’t dared to hope that might actually happen. Micha truly liked the older man a lot; Oscar had come to his rescue, a knight in shining armour, almost literally and he would never be able to repay that kindness.

“No,” Oscar said and mostly this was the truth; he wished that Micha was just a normal wizard but only because it would have been less complicated. “It certainly isn’t going to make me leave you.” Again this wasn’t completely a lie. Oscar wouldn’t be able to stay with Micha as he wanted to, and it was because he was a werewolf, but it was the prejudices of others that would keep them apart; while he had no issue with what Micha was, there were too many people in his life that would have a serious problem with it. He wouldn’t put Micha at risk like that.

Oscar didn’t know what else to say, so he reached forward and took Micha’s hand within his own again, lifting it to his lips and placing a gentle kiss there before allowing the sixteen year old to return to eating his breakfast. As they devoured their meals in a companionable silence, Oscar made up his mind what he was going to do and formulated a plan in his mind about how he was going to do it too; he was determined to do everything in his power to take care of Micha.

“Can I ask you something,” Oscar asked as they were finishing up; Micha nodded, slurping at the last of his milkshake happily. “You said before, when I first found you, that didn’t have a wand with you, that you had left it behind. Is there any particular reason why?”

“When everything happened in my pack…” Micha began, feeling the familiar ache in his chest every time he thought about them, “it all happened so quickly. I just didn’t have a chance to grab it before I left; I just got scared and ran. I’m guessing it’s still back with my old pack, unless they destroyed it.”

“Would you permit me to buy you a new one?” Oscar asked. He didn’t want to cause offense with this offer, which was exactly why he formulated it into a request such as this rather than declaring that this was what he was going to do; though it was his intention to get Micha one regardless.

“Why would you do that for me?” Micha asked, looking at Oscar with wide eyes, as though the man had truly lost the plot. “Wand’s are really expensive. I don’t need one, not really, I was never any good anyway.” He was very grateful for everything that Oscar had bought and done for him, but buying a new wand was beyond simple kindness.

“Don’t put yourself down, Micha,” Oscar said firmly, pushing his empty plate to one side and leaning on the table, giving the younger man a very stern look. “You’re a smart man and given half the chance you’d go far. As for why, I want to; a gift from me to you.”

“I don’t know,” Micha said looking entirely uncertain. “I don’t have money or anyway to repay you; you have already bought me clothes and two meals, not to mention put a roof over my head and taken great care of me. I literally have nothing to give you in return.”

“I have an idea,” Oscar said, trying to keep the sadness from his voice. “Give me yourself; mind, body and soul. Allow me to look after you, to treasure you and one day to fall irreversibly in love with you and I will consider that just payment.”

Micha looked at Oscar in utter amazement, trying to process the words that he had been told. No one in the pack had ever looked twice at him. Okay, there had been that one kiss with Tristan but he was sure that that had been nothing more than a joke to see how he would react rather than a serious kiss; perhaps even a way of teasing him over his crush on the Alpha, though Micha had no idea how Tristan would have known about that.

“You want to fall in love with me?” Micha asked, utterly astounded that anyone would want that with him; even Oscar, who had made it very clear how attracted to him he was.  

“I would very much like that,” Oscar confirmed sincerely with a nod of his head before looking for the waiter and signalling that he would like the bill. It hurt his heart a great deal to know that the plan he had in mind would mean that it would be unlikely that they would ever meet again after today, that even if their paths did cross again then Micha wouldn’t remember him at all. “Now, will you allow me to buy you a wand?” he asked again, forcing a smile onto his face, not wanting Micha to see the pain he was feeling; he would make the rest of their time together perfect.

“You’ve done so much for me already,” Micha said hesitantly, biting his lip as he thought it over. He didn’t mind giving himself to Oscar, in fact he actually thought that that was a rather enticing idea; he thought that he might be able to fall in love with Oscar who was so sweet and lovely to him, he was after all the man that had literally saved his life. However, he felt bad taking so much from his lover, even when it was willingly offered.

“And I want to do so much more, Micha, if you’ll let me,” Oscar said, taking Micha’s hand across the table once again as the waiter brought the bill over to them, placing it on the table with a large smile. “I enjoy spoiling you,” Oscar added when the waiter wandered off again. “Will you let me? Will you give yourself to me?” he asked, looking at Micha imploringly.

“Okay,” Micha agreed, chuckling softly as Oscar’s insistence. “I’m yours, heart, body and soul.”

Oscar smiled happily, kissing the palm of the sixteen year old’s hands, hiding the wave of misery washing over him. He quickly moved to quash it, determined that if today was really going to be all that they had, then he was going to make the most of it; he was going to treasure every moment that they had together and nothing was going to ruin it for them. 

FGHP

They had spent the day together, no heavy conversation or intense subjects of discussion, just enjoying each other’s company without any stress or strenuous conversations. It had been a good day, great even, in Micha’s opinion. He couldn’t stop playing with his new wand, which Oscar had insisted on buying him, having forgotten how much fun magic could be; though he had enjoyed playing with Oscar’s real wand in thanks a bit first.

Micha was lying on his back on the bed, completely naked after their activities about an hour previously, levitating various things around the room. Oscar, who was sat with his back against the headboard, certainly didn’t seem to mind watching the teenager’s antics.  

“You know it isn’t actually supposed to make coloured sparks with every spell you do,” Oscar said with an amused smile. It was rather endearing to watch Micha squeal with delight every time he cast a spell and emitted brightly coloured sparks with each wave of it. 

“Yeah, but they are pretty,” Micha said, rolling his head to the side to look up at Oscar with a grin. He was so happy, an emotion he hadn’t felt in a long while. His lower back was aching pleasantly for all the right reasons, he had an attractive man sitting naked beside him and to top it all off he had been bought lots of presents. This was a level of jubilation he hadn’t felt in a very long time. 

Oscar chuckled; he loved how innocent Micha was, even with his magic. He wanted to be the one to show his young lover all the wonderful things that magic could do. If he wasn’t quite so comfortable he might have gotten up and headed across the room to fetch one of the spell books he had bought for Micha. It pained him that he would have to leave and that he would never get to be the one to show Micha all those delightful things, that he would miss the expressions of joy that Micha would likely wear on his face with each new discovery.

He knew that it was for the best, that in the long run, even though they wouldn’t be together, Micha would be safe and protected from the dangers of the world that he knew nothing about. Dangers that his family were part of. Oscar had witnessed terrible things, many of which were done to innocent werewolves, who were simply scared and wanted to go home. 

“We could go out for dinner,” Oscar suggested as he ran his fingers idly over Micha’s chest, and the hints of muscle there. They hadn’t eaten anything since the lunch they had grabbed quickly between shops; they hadn’t really had much time for eating during the day and Oscar thought they could both do with a decent meal.

“But then we would have to put clothes on,” Micha said, rolling over onto his belly and looking up at Oscar with an exaggerated pout on his face. “And I rather like the view without,” he added breaking into a cheeky smile, blushing a little; he was not at all used to being so forward, but Oscar made him feel special, just like his mother had always said he was, and that gave him confidence.

Oscar shuffled down the bed, lying down next to Micha and rolled on to his side so that he was facing the teenager. Bringing one hand to rest upon his lover’s hip, he caressed it gently, unable to get over the sight of such a wonderful, beautiful creature sharing his bed with him. 

“As much as I equally enjoy our clothing free state,” Oscar said, pressing a peck to Micha’s lips, you do need to eat, love,” he purred, staring into the amethyst eyes with adoration for the younger man. He had a feeling that if he wasn’t careful then he was very quickly going to fall head over heels in love with the sixteen year old, something he had to avoid if for no other reason than his own sanity.

“Let’s have the food brought to us,” Micha suggested, shuffling himself closer to Oscar’s body, and reaching a hand between them to grasp at the older man’s already half hard cock. “Then we can stay naked,” he added in little more than a whisper, pressing kisses to Oscar’s jaw.

“You, my sweet, delicious Micha, are incorrigible,” Oscar said with a laugh, amazed by how far they had come together in just two days, “but yes, I think can get on board with that plan,” he added with amusement, letting his hand on Micha’s hip move back until he was holding his young lover’s arse in his hand, revelling in the kisses that the teenager was trailing down his neck.

FGHP

That evening, after making love to one another and generally worshiping each other several times over, Micha began to drift off, exhaustion proving too much for him. Oscar fought to keep himself awake, watching as slowly the teenager, curled against his side, started to breathe deeply and evenly, signalling that he was in a deep, peaceful sleep.

Doing possibly the hardest thing that he had ever had to do, Oscar pulled his gaze from Micha, turning away from the young man as he sat up carefully, so as not to wake him, and swung his legs out of the bed. He knew that this was for the best, that if he didn’t leave now then Micha was going to be in terrible danger but that did nothing to lessen how much it made his heart ache. It was only the thought of keeping Micha safe that pushed him forward, urging him to do what needed to be done.

Firstly he dressed, casting charms and spells to ensure that he was silent and that his young lover wouldn’t wake up. Once fully dressed in the robes that he hated, more so now that they represented something that would hurt the man he cared for so deeply, he began to organise everything that he wanted to leave for Micha. He wasn’t going to just turn his back and walk away leaving Micha with nothing, not like his former Alpha had done. Oscar was going to ensure that no matter what, Micha would survive.

He stood at the foot of the bed that the two of them had shared, had made love on, for far longer than he knew was wise, but he just wanted to burn this image of the man he had come to care so deeply for into his brain; he never wanted to forget; he would remember for the both of them. 

And so, in his final act before leaving, with tears trailing down his cheeks, Oscar removed his wand; his hands were trembling, barely able to hold the wand steady. The older man took a deep breath to calm himself, reminding himself of all the reasons it had to be this way, and then focused on trying to clear his mind. He needed to make sure that he cast the spell correctly or everything was going to go terribly wrong.

He didn’t want Micha to forget everything, he just wanted the teenager to forget him; he was poison, his family had made sure of that. He was quite an accomplished spell caster and he knew how to manipulate certain spells to make them more efficient for what he wanted. He would take himself away from the memories Micha had but he wouldn’t take away the happiness, the laughter or the love that they had felt; that was something that he would allow Micha to keep and to treasure. Micha needed to know that somewhere he was well and truly loved.

With tears flowing freely down his cheeks and a physical ache in his chest, Oscar cleared his mind and focused exactly on what he wanted; he spoke the word required for the spell, “Obliviate,” and then it was done. If Micha woke up now then the teenager would have no memory of who the man standing at the end of the bed was; that was the way it needed to be even if pained Oscar greatly.

He fought the urge to place a final kiss to the teenager’s lips, knowing that it was a mistake to do so and could potentially wake the slumbering man. Oscar couldn’t risk that because then all of his hard work and careful preparation would be for nothing. Now was the time to leave; his chest aching dreadfully, Oscar turned away from the bed, casting a final glance over the young man that slept on, completely unaware, before letting himself out of the hotel room.

FGHP

Waking up naturally was possibly one of Micha’s favourite things. He wasn’t sure where he was or why he was there but he knew that he was comfortable and there was sense of calm and ease settling around him; he wasn’t sure why but he felt as if he was safe.

One of the first things that he noticed was that he was inside , though he had no idea how he had come to be there or why. Inside was not exactly a natural place for werewolves to be and he wouldn’t have thought he would have chosen to be in a hotel room willingly or by himself, so it did puzzle him slightly. He wasn’t about to complain, however, not when it felt so nice to be warm and snuggly.

Stretching out and yawning, Micha snuggled beneath the duvet, unwilling to leave it’s warmth. However, the problem was that his bladder was achingly full and he really needed to relieve himself. With a sigh, he forced his eyes open and kicked the heavy duvet off, before sitting up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed, yawning and stretched again.

It was after a particularly long yawn, and an especially satisfying stretch, that he spotted a handwritten note on the bedside table. He suddenly felt much more awake as he jumped to his feet, looking around the room, making sure he really was alone. His brow furrowed in confusion trying to remember if anyone else had been with him in the last couple of days but he honestly couldn’t remember. In fact the last thing he remembered was someone giving him a lift into town, after that everything was... fuzzy.

Reaching forward he picked up the note, a little unnerved by the fact that someone had clearly been in his room while he had been sleeping. The note itself, however was a little strange. 

Don’t panic. The room is paid up for the next month. Also, the items on the table are all for you. Take care and remember that you are loved. I will watch over you.

The first instinct he had was, of course, to panic, but something niggling in the back of his mind, and he wasn’t sure what, told him that he could trust this. It felt to him as if it had come from someone who he could trust, someone who cared for him deeply and wanted to make sure that he was well taken care of. That made no sense to him at all, given his family were all dead and gone, and that he had no recollection of anyone being here other than him, but he just felt inexplicably cared for.

Then it struck him; it was his mother. There was no other explanation; she was the one that had always made sure that he was safe and loved. There was so much magic in the world and this was just an extension of that, Micha was sure; at least that was what made the most sense to him. His mother was using her magical ability beyond the grave to make sure that he survived. He had been so tired and so close to just giving up out in the forest and she had helped him to survive.

He loved and missed his mother so much and now she had given him a wand, a full belly, money –both muggle and wizard-, clothing, a bag to hold it all in and even shelter for the next month too. There was no one else in his life that would ever have protected and provided for him like this, not even his father. His father had been the kind of man that would have believed that his suffering would have built character and made him a stronger man; Micha was sure that Mason would have just let his youngest son suffer.

Micha couldn’t help but smile as he looked around, the sun was beating it’s way through the curtains, clearly a beautiful day outside and his mother had been here, she had given him hope again. For the first time in a long time he felt happy and completely at ease; he felt as if he could survive on his own.

FGHP

Oscar had never felt so much pain as when he had left Micha behind. Every part of his soul was screaming for him to go back to that hotel room and undo the spell that he had cast if he could, to live his life with the handsome young man so full of life and love. It was something that he wanted more than ever but he knew that it would never have lasted; his father and his brother would have come looking for him, they would have realised what Micha was and they would have killed him. That was not something that he could ever allow to happen.

It didn’t make it any easier to walk away, however, and once he had climbed into his car, he started to drive; within minutes though, his vision was blurry with tears. He pulled over, and he had barely got the hand break on before he was crying in earnest; heart wrenching sobs, as he all but screamed out his grief in a way he hadn’t since he had been told his mother was dead. His chest ached, his eyes and throat burning as he cried. He thumped his fist against the steering wheel; it was so unfair.

It took him nearly twenty minutes to be calm enough to drive again. Brushing the tears angrily from his face, he took his car and travelled back to where his family and the rest of the group of Werewolf Hunters were staying. They had been gathering intelligence and scouting out a possible pack of werewolves and had sent him to gather information in the local town.

He was supposed to have gone back the day before and he knew that he would get a beating for disobeying orders like he had but Micha was worth it. Everything that they had experienced together would be worth it, even more so if he managed to protect the young man.

Oscar drove with the windows down, not wanting to risk them even catching the scent of someone else in the car. He didn’t want to give them any clues that he had been doing anything other than exactly what they had told him to do. If only they knew; they would kill him for sure, not only because he had fallen for a werewolf but also because that werewolf was a man.

The group that his family was so heavily involved in were not only prejudice against werewolves but also against homosexuality, other half breeds and they frowned upon those with less than pure blood too; though the latter were tolerated more so than the rest. Muggle borns, however, they would not be entertained for any reason. In the end it all came down to blood and Oscar hated it.

He had seen both his father and his brother do horrific things to men, women and children. They had all been werewolves and in the eyes of the Werewolf Hunters they had deserved the pain and suffering, they had deserved to die. Oscar couldn’t stand it but every time he had shown distaste he had been firmly reminded that it had been a werewolf that had killed his mother, a message that had been beaten into him relentlessly.

His father didn’t believe him but Oscar had been old enough when his mother had died to understand that an animal attack didn’t equal werewolf. There had been no evidence as to what had killed her; as far as he could remember it hadn’t been a full moon, and regardless, she had been killed during the day. It had been his father who had jumped to the conclusion that it was a werewolf and he hadn’t wanted to listen to reason.

His brother was just as brainwashed and Oscar had seen him even enjoy the violence of it; it was not something that Oscar could ever tolerate. He was the weakest member of the group easily, no one much liked him but they tolerated him, mostly on the insistence of his father and brother. If they knew that he was gay he would have been ostracised at once, if not outright killed.

Arriving back to the encampment, a feeling of utter dread and revulsion washed over him, and he had to remind himself that he had come back to help keep Micha safe; he had virtually no chance of getting away from these people, but he could keep them from finding the sweet teenager. 

Shutting off the engine, Oscar steeled himself and stepped out of the car; the thud of the door as he pushed it shut sounded loud of the quiet of his surroundings and he looked around into the silence. For a brief moment he thought that maybe they had all cleared out, left him behind; it sparked a small glimmer of hope in him that maybe he was free, finally. 

However, that was when a fist hit him in the side of the head and he fell.

Dazed and disorientated he tried to pick himself up out of the dirt, to be strong, but a swift boot to the ribs prevented Oscar from getting very far. This was an experience that he had suffered before. Even without seeing his attacker’s face he was sure it was his father who was doling out the punishment; his brother was never this vicious with him, they were still brothers after all, friends even, despite their differences. And the other Hunters wouldn’t care enough to bother at all.  

Oscar swiftly gave up trying to get to his feet, simply allowing the beating to happen. He knew that any form of a reaction would only spur his father on more so he closed his eyes and willed himself not to die because if he died then there would be no one to look after Micha.

As the thought of Micha came to the forefront of his mind, Oscar focused on it. He pictured the soft tufts of blond hair the stuck up all over the place and remembered the way it felt when he ran his fingers through it; he thought of those beautifully stunning amethyst eyes and Micha’s cheeky grin; he let himself recall how it had felt when he had sunk his cock inside of the teenager, the glorious noises the teenager had made as they had made love to one another. It was enough to make the pain fade to the background. The memories of their two days together were going to be enough to save him from a lifetime of agony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed and don't forget to comment!


	26. Bitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Clayton became a werewolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a Furry bits chapter to tie you all over until next week's new chapter for the main story.

12th June 1982

Chloe was sat on the patio having afternoon cup of tea, enjoying the peace and quiet. The sun was shining brilliantly strong, warming her olive skin with its rays. It was a glorious day and she was taking full advantage of it as she stared out on to the magnificent garden that she took such pride in. Not that she dirtied her hands with such work, but she admired the excellent job that her gardener had done.

The house had been given to her as a gift, one of the perks of being a mistress of a powerful wizard, and the grounds that came attached to her lover's second home stretched out until they hit woodland a hundred or so yards away. She could hear the birds chirping in the trees around her, but she was currently watching the tree line closely, unsure if she really had seen something or someone moving amongst the trees.

“Miss Wilshaw...”a voice said, pulling her from her thoughts and Chloe turned her stern gaze to the witch she had employed to take care of her bastard son. 

The boy was almost two, or maybe he was two already, she couldn’t remember and honestly she didn’t really care; she didn’t have the time to waste with trivial things such as the bastard boy’s age. She resented that he had even been born and every time she looked at him she saw Lucius Malfoy, despite the dark hair and eyes that he had inherited from her; most of the time she couldn’t even stand to be around her son.

“Mama,” the boy said happily, reaching both of his chubby hands out to the woman who had given him life, leaning away from the young witch who had him resting on her hip. The nanny, Sara, held on to him tightly, almost protectively. She had been taking care of Clayton Wilshaw since he was a new born and she cared for him as if he were her own. 

“Why are you giving it to me?” Chloe asked as she eyed up the sticky child that was in the nanny’s arms. She had no intention of giving up the remainder of her afternoon to care for the boy; it was not something she had ever done before, and would not being so any time in the foreseeable future; she knew how disgusting children were after all.

“It’s my half day, Ma’am,” Sara said gently; keeping the exasperation she felt from her tone; she had given Miss Wilshaw plenty of notice after all. Sara couldn’t stand the way this poor excuse of a woman treated her son, but had little choice but to remain respectful or else risk losing her job. 

She loved two year old Clayton with all her heart and it was so hard to watch the way Miss Wilshaw treated him; if she could have stolen away with him, and gotten away with it, then she would have done but she knew that she couldn’t. If she did that then she would never see him again and she would probably end up in Azkaban on the charge of kidnapping. 

“So, take him with you, Sara” Chloe said dismissively, her eyes already back on the tree line as she sipped at her tea. “I pay you to take care of… it.” She had very little patience for either Sara or Clayton; they were just there, a constant presence in her life, very much unwanted and unloved. 

“It’s my half day and I have plans with some friends,” Sara said gently as she adjusted the toddler in her arms as he strained towards his mother. She had arranged this half day with her employer several weeks earlier and after not having a break in almost two years she thought she deserved to have a few hours to herself, however much it hurt to be away from the little boy. 

“What do you expect me to do with it?” Chloe asked, turning to look at Sara with a pinched expression that spoke of how little she wanted to be having this conversation. She let her eyes glance over her son and could see that he had clearly had jam recently, as there was evidence of it over his face and hands. 

Sara was looking at her employer, absolutely horrified at the words she had spoken, and, despite all she knew about the terrible woman, she was still somehow surprised by the attitude. 

“With all due respect, Madame, he is your son,” Sara said stiffly. She met Chloe’s narrowed eyes with the calmest, most patient, expression she could muster but the woman remained unmoving. Chloe sat, sipping daintily from her tea cup and making no move to take her little boy, who was still straining out to reach her. 

“Put it over there,” Chloe said motioning to the grass in front of her. “Leave him to play, and then leave if you must,” she added, not caring where the boy ended up for the afternoon as long as she didn’t have to deal with him. 

“Madame, he’s two, he can’t be left outside on his own, he needs to be supervised,” Sara said in protest, clinging to the toddler in disbelief of Miss Wilshaw’s cavalier attitude towards her son’s care. She knew a few other nanny’s and of course had heard the tales of the terrible parents some of them had met, but Chloe Wilshaw was something else altogether and Sara was starting to feel distinctly uncomfortable leaving Clayton with her.

Chloe turned to glare at the nanny, who was still distracting from a lovely afternoon in the garden; she employed the woman to take for her son not to pass comment or judgement on her. If this witch wasn’t careful then she would shortly find herself out of a job. “Leave him somewhere else then,” Chloe suggested impatiently. “I’ll have a house elf deal with him.” 

Sara shook her head in disbelief. Not liking the idea of leaving Clayton anywhere near his mother, or in fact anywhere that he might come to harm, she decided she would take him back inside. “He’s due his nap anyway. I’ll settle him in his nursery before I go,” she said and Chloe nodded, waving the nanny off dismissively. Sara was fairly certain the woman hadn't heard a word she said.

FGHP

Two hours later, Sara was very much enjoying her afternoon off; it had been far too long since she had had a chance to spend time with people her own age, let alone actual friends. But in the time Sara had spent away from her job, Chloe had left the house to do some shopping in Diagon Alley and Clayton had been left in the care of house elves. 

They were under the instruction to take him outside and let him play if he woke up from his nap. Chloe had been very clear about the fact that she didn’t want him in the house; she had guests coming over this evening for a dinner party and she didn’t want the child to make a mess before they arrived. 

Clayton woke up from his nap screaming for attention, as he usually did. Normally Sara would have been there to scoop him up and play with him but today he was alone and the toddler didn’t like that. He was crying for near enough half an hour before a wrinkly house elf appeared. 

The poor creature wasn’t quite sure what to do with the toddler who wouldn’t stop crying. However, following the instruction of its mistress, the house elf took Clayton and put him in the middle of the lawn in the garden. The timid creature then left him there, returning to the kitchens having a lot of work to do in preparation for the evening’s dinner party. It was only a house elf after all and if he didn’t get his work done then there would be punishments.

Sniffling and breathing heavily from his earlier hysterics and not entirely sure what was going on, as he was so rarely just left on his own, Clayton pulled himself to his feet. He was a confident walker and had been since he was just over thirteen months old. The young boy looked around, wondering where to explore first when he spotted movement coming from the tree line just ahead of him.

Clayton had always been a curious boy, and now, with no one to hold him back, he was going to explore. Sara never let him anywhere the forest, always telling him that it was too dangerous but she wasn’t here to stop him. She had been told stories about wolves that roamed around the forest, protecting the house and he wanted to find out if they were true. With steady steps he made his way over to where he had seen the slight movement, desperate to find out what it was.

To start with he couldn’t see anything and Clayton paused near the trees, tipping his head as he tried to peer into the forest; but then a huge man with dark blond hair and golden eyes stepped out from the undergrowth, surveying the toddler with interest. Clayton went wide eyed, as he looked up at the person in front of him, tipping his head to the other side as though this would provide him with a better view.

“Wolf,” Clayton said with an excited giggle. The toddler had seen several men come and go from his mother’s life and had never been shy of strangers in his entire two years; he wasn’t about to start now. 

The two year old suddenly, out of nowhere, sneezed and the force of it landed him back on his bum, making the small boy giggle even more. The man who had just appeared out of the tree line remained quiet, just watching, without a word he opened his arms to see what the toddler’s reaction would be. Clayton smiled and stretched out his arms to the large man, flexing his fingers. 

He was impressed with the courage of the young boy. He had been watching the house all day, after hearing the frightful woman talk about the child before him now, as though the young child were nothing more than an inconvenience. Having lost his mate, who had been pregnant, Fenrir despised anyone who disregarded their children. This little boy was something else though and would make an excellent playmate for his new mate; they were roughly the same age he was sure. 

Picking up the boy with care he held him up to look at him. He appeared to be well fed, well dressed; the woman taking care of him, who wasn’t his mother, had been doing a good job but it was clear that the boy was unwanted in the household. What really interested Fenrir, however, was that the scent surrounding the boy was one that was familiar to him. 

He was rather good with scents; his nose was far superior, even by comparison to most werewolves; a rare gift and one that he was rather proud of. He could identify even the most subtle of scents; it was how he had known that his mate was so special. It took him a moment of studying the boy, inhaling his unique scent before he realised how it was he recognised it. 

The boy’s father was Lucius Malfoy. He was sure of it. He had known Malfoy senior since joining Voldemort, they had been acquaintances of sorts he supposed but never had he mentioned any child other than the one that resided at the Manor with Lucius and his wife. Strange,; very strange.

The child he held in his arms now held little resemblance to the boy that Lucius bragged about. All the Malfoy’s he knew were blond haired and silver or blue eyed, this boy had dark brown curls atop his head and dark brown eyes, there was very little of Lucius’ features in him at all. Clearly this boy was an unwanted secret and that grated with Fenrir. 

The toddler reached up with his hand and touched the man’s lips, smiling happily up at the older man; he had a rather cheeky grin about him. Fenrir had made his mind up the moment the toddler hadn’t shied away from him but now he was even more certain in his decision; if no one else wanted the child then he would have him. He could see that if the child survived the bite then he would make an excellent werewolf. 

“Clayton,” a panicked voice shouted from the back door of the house. Fenrir looked up and saw the nanny looking around frantically for any sign of the child. He sunk back into the tree line, where he would be hidden from her line of sight, but he could still see her. 

“Sara,” Clayton said, straining around to try and see her, as he heard her calling out for him. “Sara,” he repeated, this time looking at Fenrir and pointing towards the house. 

“Not any more,” Fenrir said with a grunt, taking one of the small hands within his own and raising it to his lips, baring his teeth. Clayton just looked at him curiously, not knowing what was going on but not fighting it either. 

When Fenrir bit down upon the toddlers right index finger, hard enough to draw blood the little boy didn’t scream or cry out. Instead his bottom lip trembled and his eyes filled with tears, unable to understand why anyone would want to hurt him like this. 

“CLAYTON!” came the panicked voice of Sara again as she searched frantically for the toddler. 

Fenrir watched her searching manically all around the garden and decided that it was time to leave. He would take the boy to Damon and Eric; hopefully it would help to have a child of similar age to Harry. It could make it easier to get close to Severus and he had little time to raise pups himself; he had no doubt that Damon and Eric would make excellent fathers to the young boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many of you had figured out who Clay really was? Leave us a comment and let us know :-)

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget you can find myself (StrawberryGirl87) and BickyMonster on facebook if you would like to join us. 
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment and tell us what you think. :-D


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